Finding Who I Really Am
by voltagelisa
Summary: What happens when dreams become reality? What happens when you've lost everything and is offered something new and unexpected? Do you accept or turn your back on the offer? M/M romance.
1. Chapter 1

**Well this is my first time writing about the elder scrolls series. I have played them all, loved them all. **

**Over the next few days chapters will be going up quickly, then come Monday or Tuesday it will slow down. This story will have the Companion questline, main questline, and a few other ones. As for the romance I am debating if it will be Jarl Balgruuf or Argis, if you have a suggestion send me a message or leave it in a review. If there is a mission you want to see done again, leave it in a review or message me. **

**I have changed some of the storyline to suit my needs. Some of this will be AU, though I will try and keep as much following the Elder Scrolls history. **

**Well I hope you enjoy the chapter, let me know what you think. I would love to hear your thoughts. **

The wind blew strong, the snow crunched beneath his feet as he walked through the bush. It had been years since he had been back in Skyrim. He looked up at the clouded sky and smiled. He had missed this place. He relaxed as the scent of the forest surrounded him, calling him home once more.

He wondered what Helgen looked like now, if it had changed over the years he had been gone. He knew it was unlikely. He wondered what his parents were doing, whether they were still owned the tavern his sister used to run. He picked up his pace wanting to make it to Helgen before night, but that was impossible he knew. He needed to camp, walking these lands in the dark was dangerous business and he wasn't a fool.

He slowed his pace when he spotted a camp fire flickering in the distance. He moved silently towards the fire, hoping they were friends. He knew of the war and wasn't going to get involved in it. It was a fools' war, a war that should have never happened. The Stormcloaks wanted freedom, but they forget one thing, the price of freedom would affect the economy. They would lose their trading business with the Imperials. Once that happened, no other province would trade with them, they would be outsider and Skyrim wouldn't be able to support itself. They would have more homeless and the mortality rate would be a lot higher than it was already.

These lands were unforgiving; they would take lives of unsuspecting men. Living on these lands harden the youth into warriors before they became men. The women were as harden as the men, they weren't soft. Those that were soften by easy living, lived in the city under protection of the guards. They were the prey when they left the walls. No, Skyrim wasn't for the weak; there was no place for weak here.

Though he had to agree that Ulfric Stormcloak had a few good points, but he was going about it wrong. Sure the Thalmor were a pain in the ass and had too much freedom, but it was the Imperials they needed. Sad but true. If they could have a Skyrim without the Thalmor breathing down their necks it would be a pleasure. One thing he didn't like about Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak was his thoughts against elves, actually any race that wasn't Nord. He wanted them all gone or so the notes his father's wrote him said.

He may have been gone for years, but that didn't mean he didn't know what was going on. His parents and sister always wrote him, keeping him up to date. The letters had shown him it was time to come home, he had missed these lands.

He stopped at the edge of the camp in the shadows and took in the blue uniforms. It would be safe enough for the night, if they allowed him to stay. He walked into the camp with his blades sheathed.

"Who are you?" Ralof asked, when he saw the strange Nord walk into their camp.

"A traveller, heading home, looking for rest for the night, is all," Jorik answered calmly, even though there were swords pointed at him in warning.

He glanced over the burly man's shoulder and watched as another man with sandy blonde hair, a goatee, made their way towards them. Fur draped across his shoulder, his clothes were well tailored. This man was a noble and held himself as such. Jorik held his eyes, showing that he wasn't going to bow down.

"Sheath your weapons, we will not draw weapons on a son of Skyrim," the man ordered.

"Jarl Ulfric, how do we know he is not a spy?" the burly man asked.

Jorik watched as the famous Jarl moved closer, his crystal blue eyes searching more than just what he wore. It was like the man could read his very soul. Jorik held his gaze without flinching. "Who are you?" The Jarl asked.

"Jorik of Heglen," he answered with a smirk.

"Helgen is Imperial run," Jarl Ulfric stated.

"It is, though I haven't been in home in quite a few years," Jorik answered, not at all worried that he may be cut down. If he was going to die, let it be on Skyrim soil.

"Where have you been?" Ulfric asked quietly. Jorik smirked, the Jarl may have softened his voice, but it wasn't quiet.

"Cyrodiil," Jorik answered, he wasn't going to go into detail of what he was doing there. It was no one business, but his own.

Jarl Ulfric searched the man's emerald green eye and saw nothing that would put him on alert. He took a step back, his gut yelled at him that there was more to this man than what meets the eyes. His Nord instincts were saying this man brings change with him, he will change everything. He knew then that fates were playing a part here, something important was going to happen soon and he was to be a witness to it.

Ulfric gave a sharp nod to the man and stepped back allowing him access to the camp for rest. He moved over to the fire and watched as the man walk took a mug of mead offered to him. Ulfric made the decision to have this man help him fight for his cause. He moved with lithe grace, of one who has seen many battles and lived to tell the tale. His long jet black hair was pulled back from his face by two braids, a traditional Nord style. He was darker skin than most Nord, someone who was outside more than indoors. Ulfric had noticed that he only one good green eyes, the other was dead, already lost its color. That told him the injury happened awhile back.

Ulfric knew something big was coming, but what, he wasn't sure. His instincts kept tell him this over the past few nights. They were near the border of Cyrodiil, a safe enough place for now. Tomorrow they would march to Helgen and take out the Imperial there, bring it under Stormcloak banner. Then it would be to Riverwood, maybe, but first they needed more men before taking that place since it was so close to Whiterun.

Jorik looked up at the darkened sky, stars started dotted the blackness as the clouds moved away. He wasn't sure if he wanted to fall asleep with all these people here. Not with the dreams he had been having lately, they were odd, strange dreams that made no sense. The same dreams that sent him back to these lands. Well one of the reasons, the other reason was the last letter he received from his sister.

He spotted the Jarl sitting alone. He wondered how many of the rumors were true and false. He moved over to the Jarl taking a seat on a log nearby. "I heard a rumor and was wondering if you can clarify," Jorik began, looking at the Jarl expectantly.

"What's that?" Ulfric asked. He withheld his glare, he wasn't used to people just walking up to him and asking questions.

"You're Dragonborn is what I heard, is it true?" Jorik asked quietly.

"No, but I know how to use the voice. It took years to learn," Ulfric answered, he wondered if this man was about to ask him why he killed the king and why he used to voice on the king.

Jorik nodded mutely, so the rumors had been true. He thought about asking about the murder of the king, but decided not to. He gave the Jarl one final glance before walking away. When he stood alone he lay his bedroll down and covered himself in fur to ward off the cold while he slept. No one tried to make conversation with him, nor would they go near him, which was fine with him.

Sleep finally claimed him, he didn't know how long it took, but his eyes finally became heavy.

_A burly man walked through the mist with confidence. I stand there frozen in place, not able to move other than watching this stranger. He walks up to me, his voice deep, smooth with a strong Nord accent. _

"_Ahrk fin Kel lost prodah, do ved viing ko fin krah, (And the scrolls have foretold, of black wings in the cold) _

_Tol fod zeymah win kein meyz fundein! (That when brothers wage war come unfurled)_

_Alduin, feyn do jun, kruziik vokun staadnau, (Ulduin, Bane of Kings, ancient shadow unbound,)_

_Voth aan bshlok wah diivon fin lein!" (With a hunger to swallow the world)_

_The man stared at him intently, slowly fading as the words echoed through his whole being. It was like those words called to something deep within him. He was used to that feeling now, it happened every time with this dream. Countless times he had this dream and still had no inkling as to what it meant. _

Ulfric and a few others stood near Jorik as he slept, they listen to the words he spoke. "Dragon tongue," Ulfric whispered.

"What does it mean?" Rolaf asked nervously.

"I don't know. No one other than the Greybeards has been able to speak the dragon language," Ulfric murmured thoughtfully as he stared down at the man he didn't even know. Some of the words he was familiar with. He wasn't exactly sure what was said, but it was a song of some type.

Jorik sat up abruptly, the words still ringing in his mind. Every night for the past few months was the same thing over and over again, the same dream, the same words. He didn't need to be a sleep to know the words anymore, he knew them in his waking hours, but the meaning was illusive to him. The only word he recognized from those verse were Alduin, every Nord knew that name from legends.

Jorik raised his head and met the eyes of the on lookers. He could feel their penetrating stare; feel the question heavy on the air that no one voiced. He didn't flinch when he saw fear in some eyes, nor did he cower as a freak when he met the eyes of Jarl of Windhelm. The Jarl's ice cold blue eyes were devoid of emotion, his chiseled face set in stone, no emotion showed. He knew that most here thought him a freak, he could see it in their eyes of most, but one - the Jarl.

"Do you know what it means?" Ulfric asked, his eyes narrowing slightly. He could see the admission that Jorik knew that he had spoken out loud.

"No," Jorik answered sharply. His voice clearly stated that he didn't wish to discuss this matter further.

Ulfric stared down at the man before walking away. A sense of foreboding crept down his spine telling him things were going to happen faster than he could have perceived. His mind kept lingering on the stranger Jorik, it was odd that he was speaking the dragon language. He wasn't sure what to make of it, but he had to move quickly to have this man fight for them. In the morning he would approach Jorik and persuade him to fight for their cause.

~ooooooooooooooooooooooo~

Morning came faster than Jorik would have liked. He took a clean deep breath of the crisp morning air. The scent of pine and burning wood from the camp fire filled his nostrils. He glanced around the camp to find very few up, yet those that were awake, were patrolling the area. The sky was still dark, but mornings first light was just starting to peak through. Soon dawn's first light would brighten the sky enough for him to leave, all he needed to do now was wait.

He watched as those few men who were awake patrolled the camp, weapon at ready. He gazed at the large tent where Jarl of Windhelm was resting. He knew he had to leave and soon, but not till there was light. An itch started on his back, a warning. He closed his eyes, and a voice deep within him yelled to leave, but his gut said there was danger nearby, he had to stay. His dreams told him his destiny would be starting soon. Those dreams were becoming stronger, harder to ignore. He didn't know what to do, whether to stay or leave.

Silently he asked the nine divines what to do. His instincts had served him well over the years, but it was that other voice that bothered him. He didn't expect the divines to answer, he would be amused and grateful if they did favor him with an answer.

He looked up at the sky once more and grin, soon the light would be bright enough. He repacked his bag, making sure he had everything he would need. He grabbed his quivers of arrows and slung them over his back. His long sword he strapped around his waist, with his bow hanging over one shoulder. He was ready; as soon as the first ray of light broke through the night he would be off. He decided to ignore the other voice.

He bowed his head, giving a quick prayer to the Divines and smiled when he felt the heat of the first ray of light. It was time. He slung his pack over his shoulder and started heading out of camp. He glanced at the patrols as he passed them. "Jarl Ulfric wished to see you before you leave," one of them announced.

"Is he awake?" Jorik asked, annoyed at being stopped.

"No, but he will be soon," the man answered.

"Then I will see Jarl Ufric in Windhelm once I see my family," Jorik answered and started for the trail he saw. He scowled as the man stepped in his way, blocking his way from exiting the camp and the uneasy feeling he had grew.

"You'll wait," The man ordered coldly. Jorik knew he could take the man easily, but that was the last thing he wanted to do. There were too many and if the guards sounded the alarm there would be no way to fight them all. Jorik shrugged and took a seat on a stump once more. The uneasy feeling growing as dawn's light brightened.

His shoulders twitched as he heard a twig snapping. The uneasiness grew even more. He knew whatever was going to happen, it was happening now. He closed his eyes once more, saying a quick prayer to the Divines. They had served him well over the years, it was his way of thanking them and this could be the last time.

More twigs snapped, muffled voices could be heard nearby. Jorik rose to his feet as the camp erupted into chaos. Imperials swarmed the camp as Stormcloaks fought back. Jorik stayed off to the side, waiting for a clear place where he could run. This wasn't his fight, he didn't belong here.

He saw his chance and was about to make a break for it…

Pain shot through his head, his vision blackened and he felt himself falling. He caught himself before landing face first into the snow. Another blow to the back of the head finished what the first hadn't. Blackness enveloped him, holding him in its cold embrace.


	2. Chapter 2

**Well here is another chapter. I hope you enjoy. This chapter is a bit more AU but I tried to follow most of the Elder Scrolls lore. **

**Thank you for the review, as for the romance it still not decided, so go ahead and throw out names if you wish. **

**Well hope to hear from!**

Slowly he came to; the first thing he noticed was the rattle of a wagon. _That didn't sound good,_ was his first thought. He opened his eyes, the bright light hitting them sharply. He groaned in pain and annoyance.

"Good, you're finally awake," the burly man he had first met when he entered the camp commented. Jorik glanced around him, his hands were tied, and he scowled fiercely. Across from him a scrawny man that looked like a good gust of wind could blow him over sat there looking desolate. Beside him sat the Jarl of Windhelm, gagged. _This wasn't looking good_, he thought with annoyed sigh.

"When I find out who hit me in the head, they won't be feeling that well when I am finished," Jorik grumbled. He smirked as he heard the burly man chuckled.

"I don't think you'll have a chance for that," The burly man said with a grin.

"Where are they taking us?" The scrawny man asked sounding desperate.

"Who knows, but we are heading towards Helgen from the looks of it," Jorik answered, sorrow building in him. He would see his family, but at what cost. The last note said his father wasn't doing well and his mother was worn thin. Now they would see their son's death, he hoped they saw nothing and stayed indoors.

"You said that was where you're from," the burly man commented.

"Aye, my parents and sister still live here. My father is dying and my mother has worn herself out aiding him. Neither of them has long left," Jorik answered quietly, his worry and sorrow lacing his words. Silence fell for a few moments before the thief spoke once more.

Jorik eyed the burley man and smirked. They were about to die at least he could know the man's name. He couldn't believe he didn't ask while staying at their camp, but it hadn't even crossed his mind. "What's your name?"

"Ralof, I'm from Riverwood," he answered and watched Jorik look at him thoughtfully. He knew Jorik was from Helgen, but didn't remember ever meeting him as a lad or man.

Jorik nodded, and turned his attention back to the thief when he began talking.

"And what's wrong with him, huh?" Lorik said staring at the gagged man. Jorik had wondered for a moment why he was gagged, but then he remembered that Ulfric had killed the high king with his voice, if what his told him was true.

"Watch your tongue. You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true high king." Ralof snapped harshly. Jorik kept silent, he didn't agree that Ulfric was the true high king. He thought over his predicament, it was true they wouldn't have been in this mess if the war hadn't been happening. But he should have left, and he didn't, so he could blame no but himself.

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion." Lokir ranted desperately, his plight fully coming to realization of what was about to happen. "But if they captured you…. Oh gods, where are they taking us?"

"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits." Ralof murmured softly. Jorik sighed, he had no choice, but to agree with that statement.

"No, this can't be happening. This isn't happening." Lokir cried desperately, Jorik looked at him in disgust, for a Nord he was a coward. Jorik was happy when silence finally fell. He turned his attention to the Jarl to find those sky blue piercing eyes watching him intently. He didn't know what the Jarl was looking for, but there was no way to find out.

"Hey, what village are you from horse thief?" Ralof ask kindly, pity could be seen in the burly Nord's face.

"Why do you care?" Lokir mumbled desolately.

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home," Ralof tells him. Jorik agreed, it should be of home. A home he hadn't seen in years and probably wouldn't see again.

"Rorikstead. I'm… I'm from Rorikstead." Lokir answers, his voice hesitant as he stutters. Pity welled up in Jorik, he didn't understand why this man was so afraid of death. It was a natural thing, he should be happy that he's dying on Nord soil and not somewhere far from home.

"General Tullius, sir! The headman is waiting!" An Imperial guard states. Jorik looked up and found Imperial's lining the wooden walls of the gate to Helgen. He closed his eyes, home, he was home, but for how long?

"General Tullius, the Military Governor." Ralof spat disgustedly. "And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this." Jorik smirked, it was so true, all Tullius needed was a rope around his neck so they could lead him.

Ralof turned sharply to Jorik, worry in his eyes. "It looks like our stop is Helgen," Ralof said quietly.

"Aye, it looks that way," Jorik murmured, closing his eyes for a moment asking the god to protect what time his parents had left.

"Hopefully your parents don't come out and see," Ralof murmured.

"If they do, the headsman will have three heads with one swing," Jorik bowed his head, silently saying his final farewells to his parents.

"Does your parents' have anyone else to help them?" Ralof asked.

"Yes, my sister. She wrote to me asking me to come home. That was one of the reasons I'm back here," Jorik told him. He looked around the area as the wagon moved, Helgen hadn't changed much, it was still as he remembered it. His eyes met a child and he hoped the child wouldn't witness what was about to happen. He remember the lad vaguely, seen him when he was but a few winters old. Jorik raised his eyes and met those of the father's, Jorlaf, an old friend since childhood.

"Jorik?" Jorlaf whispered worriedly.

"Who are they daddy? Where are they going?" child asks, his bright eyes meeting the one his father was looking at.

"You need to go inside child," Jorlaf said.

"Why? I want to watch the soldiers." Child whined, but Jorlaf never once took his eyes off Jorik's. It had been a long time since he saw his friend. He was glad Jorik was dying on Nord soil instead of Cyrodiil. Jorlaf worried for his parents, they had been looking for to Jorik's return. Word had spread quickly that he was coming home, many of the town's folk were looking forward to his return, but they never expected this. He could see the wealth of sorrow in his childhood friend's eyes and knew. He knew Jorik didn't belong with the Stormcloaks, but couldn't figure out why he was bound with them.

"Inside the house, Now!" Jorlaf snapped angrily. This was the last thing his son needed to see.

"Yes papa," Child pouted and sulked into the house.

Jorik turned to the Lorik when he heard him speak. He had to shake his head, this man was really giving Nord's a bad name. "Why are we stopping?" Lokir asked fearfully.

"Why do you think? End of the line." Ralof stated harshly. "Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us."

"No! Wait! We aren't rebels!" Lokir cried out fearfully.

"Quit sniveling like a coward and face your death like a man," Jorik snapped coldly.

"You got to tell them we weren't with you! This is a mistake." Lokir said looking beseechingly at Ralof.

"It wouldn't matter, they wouldn't believe him. You're going to die whether you wish it or not," Jorik spat belligerently.

"Jorik?" a soft voice called to him. He closed his eyes, this is what he'd been afraid of. His sister stood not a stone's throw away with his parents' right behind her. His mother was helping his father move towards him.

"Aye, finally made it home sis," he answered with a brave smile.

"No, they can't do this. You don't belong with the Stormcloaks," His sister stormed.

"At the moment I don't think it matters," Jorik told her. He flinched when an Imperial guard shoved her out of the way, trying to keep her from the prisoners.

"Interfere once more and you'll join him at the chopping block!" the captain stated coldly, before turning away and returning to the front of the crowd.

Jorik flinched when he heard his mother cry out. Everyone turned in her direction, Aden, his father collapsed to the ground holding his chest. Jorik moved quickly towards his parents, he didn't care what the Imperials did to him, his family needed him. He dropped to his knees beside his mother, his bound hands looping around her shoulders holding her close as she wept. Jorik watched the light slowly fade from his father's eyes. It sadden him that his father was taken like this, but he had expected it. He held his mother, allow her to weep, his sister was leaning against his one arm, his face buried in his shoulder as she wept for the loss of their father. Jorik showed no emotions, now wasn't the time.

"Remember this mother, I die on Nord soil close to home. Do not grieve me, I go to Sovngarde. I'll see father there and give him a lecture he won't forget, just for you," Jorik murmured quietly so only she and his sister could hear.

He glanced over his shoulder wondering why no one tried to pull him away. It seemed he had the attention of everyone and they were giving him his time. For that he was thankful.

Jorik vaguely listened as names were called. His would be soon. He rose to his feet taking his mother with him. "Sis, take her home. Neither of you need to see this," he told her quietly. He watched them leave and walked back to the line a faint smile on his face. He knew this wasn't the place to smile, but the inner voice he heard before was backing telling him something big was going to happen. The last time it said that, he had been knocked out and tied up. This time he didn't know what was going to happen, but he knew it would be interesting.

"You, step forward," an Imperial ordered pointing towards him. Jorik stepped forward, his head held high even though he was dressed in rags. _He wasn't going to cower or show his turmoil to these men._ "Who are you?"

"Jorik of Helgen," he announced, making sure his voice carried and all heard he had no fear of what was about to happen.

Jorik shook his head as the two Imperials argued between themselves about his fate. It seemed they had a list, and his name wasn't on it. He wondered with amusement if they had this written out before they arrested everyone. He nodded, still smirking when he was ordered to follow the captain. That voice within his mind was growing louder, it would be soon he knew.

Silence descended as the Imperial spoke. Jorik glanced around rapidly, he could feel something near, something calling to him. Something deep within him answered, wanted free, but couldn't.

Ulfric ignored Tullius, he was an annoyance, but what had caught his attention was Jorik. He was glancing around wildly, not in fear, but searching for something. Ulfric nudged Ralof, and nodded towards Jorik. They both watched intently as the other Nord searched.

That was when all heard it, a roar splitting the air. Ulfric looked up at the mounts the direction where the noise came from, but saw nothing. He turned his attention back to Jorik and found him staring intently at the mountains as well.

All fell silent as Jorik voice cut through the air, his eyes black as he stared at nothing, his voice deep and thundering, stopping all in their place. Ulfric's eyes widened as he stared at this Nord. He could swear that there was a glow to the nord as he spoke. He knew this voice wasn't Jorik's this voice was from elsewhere.

"When misrule takes the place of the eight corners of the world,

When the Brass Tower walks and time is reshaped,

When the thrice blessed foil and the Red Tower trembles,

When the Dragonborn ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls,

When the Snow Towers lies sundered, kingless, bleeding,

The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Lost Dragonborn." Jorik whispered the words that shouted in his mind. He could feel a presence, someone, or something not of here. He felt as if a god was standing next to him, forcing him to say these words. He didn't know but he knew he had no choice in the matter. When he came out of his trance or delusion, he wasn't sure which it was he found everyone everyone's attention on him. The words were still ringing in his head. What they meant he wasn't sure but he knew they were a prophecy of some type. For what he needed to find out. What scared him more was the presence was still with him, guiding him. Something told him what was happening now was very important and about to change everything.

They watched as one head fell into the basket from the first prisoner called. Jorik bowed his head in silent prayer and then raised his eyes as another roar rented the air. Jorik mind fogged, and words that made little sense to him even though they were in the common language reverberated through him, forcing him to speak the words. .

"Here stands my chosen one, blood and soul of both."

Jorik stumbled forward, barely catching himself as he came to and the voice in his head disappeared once more. He closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind and prepare himself for what was to come.

Once more everyone attention was on Jorik, most shifted uneasily, while others looked bewildered.

Ulfric stared at the lad. He knew, he didn't have to be told. This man was the Dragonborn. If he got free of this somehow, though he knew that was unlikely, he would need that man next to him in his stance against the Imperials.

"The Nord in rags step forward," the Captain announced. Her eyes narrowing on the man, all had heard what he said and she considered him too dangerous to be set free no matter what those words meant. . Most looked at him in awe, while other in fear. She glanced at General Tullius, to see what his reaction was.

Tullius had noticed how the Nords reacted to the Nord in rags words. Any Nord within his sight looked to this Nord in awe. He also noticed that Ulfric had taken an interest in the Nord also. He turned his attention back to the Captain ready to allow the man to go free, but his head was already on the chopping block.

Ulfric was watching intently. His gaze snapped to the top of one of the towers. A massive black dragon landed, with horns and spikes coming out of its body, massive black wings spread out. Dragon. He couldn't believe it, he was seeing a dragon.

"Alduin," He heard Jorik whisper, before the dragon let out a blast of fire and something else.

Ulfric couldn't wait around, this was his time to get to safety. He ran to another tower, away from the dragon's gaze. He watched from the door as Ralof stayed with the prisoner. He sighed in relief, they needed that man.

Ulfric backed away from the door as they both ran into the tower.

"Jarl Ulfric, what was that? Could the legends be true?" Ralof asked, his shock showing in his voice. Jorik waited for the answer. Could the legends be true? Oh yes, they were very true.

"Legends don't burn down villages," Ulfric stated, his gaze never leaving Joriks.

"Really, I'd hate to argue, but it seems like a legend is doing just that outside," Jorik spat glaring at Ulfric.

"You dare argue?" Ulfric growled, his deep voice holding a warning that most would heed. Jorik figured this out when he saw Ralof grow pale.

"Aye, I do. Alduin is back," Jorik growled, not backing down from the lethal look in the Jarl's eyes. "If he's not, explain to me, what in the nines is that outside."

Jorik shook his head disdainfully when Ulfric didn't answer. There was no answer he could give. He glanced at the other and then down at his bound hands and scowled. They needed out of here, this tower wouldn't last, he knew Alduin was looking for him. He didn't know how he knows, but he knew.

He turned for the stairs, he couldn't wait around here. "We need to get out of here," Ralof stated.

Jorik rolled his eyes, just what he was thinking. He ran up the stairs and stopped before coming to a window. He gasped when a dragon breathed fire into the tower. "Damn, that dragon isn't giving up," Jorik grumbled and rushed to the window when it was clear.

"Jump to the inn," Ralof told him.

He stared at the inn for a moment before jumping across. Thoughts of his sister filled him. He needed to find his family. He moved quickly through the inn and dropped down to the main floor. He stopped dead when he saw the dragon once more and also that Imperial that had been asking him the questions. He remembered the sadness in his eyes when he was told to forget the list and execute him anyways. That made him hesitate, this man could be a potential ally.

"Still alive prisoner?" The man asked with a relieved look.

"Looks that way," Jorik answered, moving closer to the other Nord. "Got a name?"

"Hadvar," The nord answered as he gave Jorik a searching look. He made his decision about the prisoner. "Follow me if you want to live Jorik. We'll try and find your family on the way," Hadvar yelled over the noise of the dragon.

"Thanks," Jorik yelled, back as they raced through an ally that he often ran through when he was a child. It was sad, he was relieving old memories as his village was being destroyed.

Jorik followed closely behind and hesitated as Hadvar led him through a ruined house.

His parents' house…. He walked in slowly, and stopped dead. Not three feet away from him where the two charred bodies. Jorik ran to the bodies, dropping to the ground in front of them. He was sure it was his sister and mother, but what made it positive was the necklace his mother wore. He had given it to her a long time ago. Jorik bowed his head and said a silent prayer to Akatosh to guide them safely to Sovngarde.

Hadvar noticed that the man wasn't right behind him. He backed tracked finding him in the house staring at two dead bodies. "I found them. They are in Sovngarde now," Jorik whispered before rising to his feet and continuing through the house. They both stopped at the door, Jorik hand firmly on Hadvar's shoulder, stopping from moving further.

"Zu'u Alduin. Pahlok joorre! Hin kah fen kos bonaar! Nust wo ni qiilaan fen kos duaan!" the dragon voice roared over the mayhem.

"Is he speaking?" Hadvar asked astonished.

"Yeah he is," Jorik answered quietly. Hadvar hesitated when he saw Jorik eyes go black, his voice went eerily deep as if another was speaking and not him. "Arrogant mortals! Your pride will be humbled. Those who do not bow will be devoured."

"How can you understand him?" Hadvar asked looking at him strangely. Jorik didn't answer right away, his eyes focused on the dragon. Hadvar watched as his eyes slowly changed back to a vibrant green, one eye still blind.

"Understand what?" Jorik asked, his voice was filled with confusion and fear at the incredulous look on Havdar's face. He just came home to help his family and find answers. This is what happens, you lose your family, and then legends return, breathing fire and decimating towns. Worse was, it seemed as if that dragon had been speaking to him.

"We need to find General Tullius," Hadvar stated, before leading the way once more. Jorik didn't say a word, but followed the Imperial. They found Tullius, and were ordered to the castle. He wasn't sure about entering the castle, he thought the best bet would be to head for one of the gates. He couldn't do that with his hands bound, so he had no choice but to follow.

He hesitated when he saw Ralof running towards them. He listened as the two argue. He wasn't sure who to follow, both had helped him, but he knew whoever he followed the other would probably be his enemy when they met up in the keep. Jorik bowed his head and followed Ralof into the keep.

"Was that really a dragon from legends?" Ralof asked more to himself than anyone else. He wasn't actually expecting an answer.

"Aye, it was," Jorik answered. It felt odd admitting that dragons had returned.

Rolaf watched Jorik, Ulfric had told him that they needed Jorik on their side. He needed to get this man safely out of Helgen. Rolaf wasn't sure why the Jarl had been so adamant, but Ulfric had made it sounds as if this man was important. He didn't know what to think of Jorik, especially when his eyes go black and he speaking as if he were another person or speaking dragon tongue. He would do his best to get Jorik out of Helgen, but that was the best he could do.

~oooooooooo~

Akatosh watched his chosen make his way through the crumbling castle. He had watched Jorik all his life, listened to his prayers and answered them when he could. He had shown Jorik his path when the high king of Skyrim died. The last foretelling of his son's return.

He knew he had chosen right. These people needed Jorik and he needed him. Now his true future would start and while his future unfolded he would watch and help when he could. It was the only thing he could do….

~oooooooooooo~

Jorik took a deep breath of fresh air as the exited the cave. Freedom, finally. Now he didn't know what to do or where to go. His home and family lay dead behind him. For the first time since everything started, his eyes burned. He turned back to where Helgen laid and watched as billows of smoke rose in the sky.

Everything gone.

Jorik walked slowly, he was in no rush now. He followed at a distance behind Ralof, the man was in a hurry to get away before more Imperials came. He turned his attention to Ralof when he stopped.

"You should hurry before the Imperials come," Rolaf said urgently.

"Ralof, I just lost everything - my family, my home in a few hours. If the Imperials catch me right now, I don't really care. They have bigger things to worry about," Jorik snapped coldly as he turned back to the smoking village in the distance. He shook his head sadly and continued on.

"You mean you have no one left?" Ralof asked.

"I had an uncle in Markarth, but he passed away last spring. My other sister was killed by bandits a year ago. And any other relatives I had died while I was gone. The last of my family was in that village," Jorik stated harshly. He didn't bother waiting for Ralof as he continued down the road. It would be pointless, he needed time to mourn, but he wasn't getting that.

He may never get that and that was a depressing thought.


	3. Chapter 3

**Well this story is getting better reception than I thought it would. Still would like to hear from the readers. More chapters will be going up today and tomorrow. Going to try and put up as many as I can over the next couple of days. I am hoping to make to chapter 8 by Sunday night. **

Ralof met his sister over by the wood mill, Jorik moved over to the river as the talked between themselves. He ignored the conversation and instead focused on the flowing water. He tried to let the sounds sooth him, hoping the pain would lessen. He flashed back on memories of his childhood when his family was alive. A time when life was simpler.

Ralof glanced over his should at Jorik, he just finished greeting his sister and now worried for the nord.

Gurder noticed the man, she was about to move over to him for a greeting, but Ralof stopped her. "No, leave him be," Ralof said.

"Why, what happened to him?" his sister asked.

"He lost all of his family in Helgen. Right now he's mourning," Ralof said quietly. His sister looked horrified and bowed her head as sadness leaked into her eyes for the stranger.

Jorik had heard what Ralof said, but it was more than that. He felt empty inside. He came back to be with his family, but now there was no one. So why is he staying? There was no reason for him to stay in Skyrim. There were the odd dreams, but those didn't matter anymore.

With a heartfelt sigh, he walked over to Ralof and his sister. "I should be heading," Jorik muttered, he wasn't good company as it was, these were strangers and he didn't feel comfortable here.

"Can you do Riverwood one thing?" Ralof's sister asked.

"What's that?" Jorik asked curiously. He was tired, wanted sleep, but this seemed more important.

"The Jarl needs to know what happened here. Can you inform him?" She asked, waiting patiently for his reply.

"Aye, I will do that," Jorik nodded, before heading out.

Ralof looked shocked, "he should have rested first," he muttered.

"Yes, he should have. How do you know him?" Gerdie asked.

"We were camped, that morning the Imperial found us. One snuck up on him striking him in the head. After that we stuck together escaping Helgen, his father died in front of everyone. Jorik had told us his father was sick. He found his sister and mother while escaping, they were already dead. I've never seen anyone fight like him, he quick and deadly. He would rush into rooms before I had to a chance to catch up and those rooms would be cleared of enemies by the time I entered. " Ralof told her the story.

"Well you go rest, I've got work to do here. If he comes back, I'll make sure he stays with us," She stated, before walking away.

Ralof watched his sister walk away, there was a lot he left out. Some of it he didn't understand. The dragon words that Jorik had spoken, or the two words he had uttered. The one that scared him the most was the other voice that had been speaking through him. . It made no sense, unless…. No that couldn't be it, there hasn't been a Dragonborn in ages.

~oooooooooooooo~

He looked up at the ruins that Ralof had pointed out earlier that day. Night was coming, he knew it was stupid to be hiking at night, but he needed to do something. He made his mind up to check out the ruins before going to Whiterun.

They were as he expected at first. Bandits littered the place. He crouched low, hoping to sneak up on the bandits, but he knew it would never work. He had never been good at sneaking. After he was caught by the first bandit he gave up on sneaking and faced them head on.

He made his way through the old ruins slowly, listening intently for any strange noises that would alert him to danger. A cold sweat ran down his back when he came to a doorway covered in thick spider webbing. _Spiders…._ He hated them with a passion, they made his skin crawl. He had fought a few a long time ago and after those fights it had taken a bit for his hands to quit shaking. Now here he was about to go up against more of them.

Taking a deep fortifying breath he hacked at the thick webbing, while his mind told him to turn around and leave. His eyes widened as he entered the large room hesitantly. Across the room he saw a dumner caugh up in webs. He took a step forward to help the man but stopped dead when a large shadow fell over him. Slowly he looked up and swallowed thickly as fear raced through him. It had been bad in caves beneath the castle in Helgen, this was so much worse. This spider was large, the largest he had ever seen. He should have listened to his mind when it yelled to leave the ruins. Now he had no choice but to fight it. He charged towards it, before he could actually register what he was doing. He didn't allow his fear to overwhelm him as he hacked and slashed at it. He breathed a sighed of relief when it dropped to the ground dead. Jorik glanced at his arm and grimaced at the deep cut. He gulped down a healing potion, hoping that would stop the bleeding for now. His hands were still shaking, as he stared at the giant spider.

"You have to get me out here," a dumner yelled. Jorik made his way over to the man. His eyes narrowing on the bandit in distrust.

"Where is the claw?" he asked, not trusting the bandit in the least.

"Get me down and I'll give you the claw," the bandit demanded. Jorik knew he was about to be betrayed, but he couldn't get the claw any other way. He cut the man down and watched him run away.

He followed after the thief and met up with a new enemy - one that made his skin crawl. He guessed these were draugres that Ralof had been talking about.

The rest of the ruins were filled with them. It didn't matter how many he killed they still made his skin crawl. Each room he came across had them, he didn't understand how they were moving about when they were already dead and no mages in sight.

After a while he lost track of time and wasn't sure how long he had been in these ruins killing those things. When he stepped into a large cavern, he hoped he was nearing the end of the ruins. He needed out of here, to see the sky and breath the fresh air. He didn't know how adventures did it, going through these ruins and looting them of their valuables. He wouldn't be able to do it. The old ruins irked him too much now that he'd finally been through one.

He stepped into the grand cavern, letting out a low whistle as he took in the waterfalls, it had a beauty to it, even though this place was deadly.

He walked further into the large chamber, his mind filling with chanting. His gaze automatically went to a stone wall, with ancient writing on it. He stepped close to it, word filled his mind as everything around him blurred. ""HET NOK FaaL VahLON DeiNMaaR DO DOVahGOLZ ahRK aaN FUS DO UNSLaaD RahGOL ahRNK VULOM" (Here lies The Guardian, keeper of Dragonstone and a Force of Unending Rage and Darkness) Jorik whispered. Raising a hand, he lightly touched the wall, one word burned brightly embedding itself into his mind.

His body pulsed with the beat of the chanting, the word filling him, awaking something deep inside of him. "Fus," he whispered, the word resonated through him. He stepped back from the wall slowly, his attention snapping towards a sarcophagus nearby. Another draugr showing it presences, but this one different than the others, it shouted, nearly knocking him off his feet.

Jorik panted as the draugr fell, his sword arm tired, barely able to hold his sword properly. It had been awhile since he was in such a difficult fight, one that he didn't want a repeat of.

~oooooooooo~

He made it to Whiterun in the early morning, he was weary, barely able to keep his eyes open. He wanted to sleep, but he didn't have time, he needed to get that message to Jarl. Jorik groaned when he saw the stairs he would have to climb, this was the last he thing he wanted to do. Stealing himself for the climb his fatigued body would have to do, he made his way up to the castle.

He turned around and looked over the town. It had been a long time since he was here. The last time was when he was but a young man, just growing his first beard. His gaze fell on Jorrvaskr, he wondered if Kodlak was still the Harbinger. He remembered meeting the man a few times, he had been a great warrior, and a good friend to his father.

He turned his attention back to Dragonreach. He vaguely remembered meeting a Jarl from here, but he remembered the Jarl son, Balgruuf, more. They had went out drinking a few times, and had explored a cave nearby, but that had been many years ago. Then the son had left for a bit. Jorik remembered that the Jarl's son had been slightly older than him, but at the time it hadn't mattered to him.

He stepped into the castle and made his way to the man seated on the throne. Helgen might have been in Falkreath hold, but that never stopped his father from doing his business in Whiterun. He had met many people when he was younger, but the years have passed since he had been here last. He was betting that the people he had known when he was younger weren't around anymore.

His gaze lit on the Jarl and he smirked. It was the same man, the son of the old Jarl. Jorik scowled at a Dumner that stopped him. He didn't answer her questions. His information was for the Jarl himself, not the housecarl, even though speaking to the housecarl was considered speaking with the Jarl.

"Irileth, allow him through," The Jarl commanded. Jorik moved forward, bowing his head. He felt odd doing it to a man that he used to know, but his respect was earned. The man he remembered had been fair and kind, he wondered if that had changed since taking his father's place.

Balgruuf turned his attention to the man before him. For a moment he didn't recognize the man until he met emerald green eye and one pale eye with a long scar. Bulgruuf remembered the day the man had received the scar, they had been in the cave acting like adventures. He had taken the lad so their fathers could talk in private without the lad bothering them. He had made a mistake, half way through the cave they had been overwhelmed. Jorik had blocked a blade going for him, saving his life in the process, but he had lost his vision in that eye. Balgruuf had made the mistake thinking that he would have to protect the lad, when in turn it had been the lad protecting him and ended up taking the lead after the injury. For the longest time he had felt guilty, he had been told that those caves were empty when that had been furthest from the truth.

Now that same lad stood in front of him looking exhausted. He sported a few cuts and scars, but he was still as he remembered him those years ago, only now he was a man. Piercing green eye met his and held.

"Jorik, it's been a long time. Last I heard you were in Cyrodiil," Balgruuf remarked, trying to keep the unease from his voice. He never knew if Jorik had forgiven him for the loss of sight in his one eye. When they walked home Jorik had placed a bandage over the eye, and stated that he was fine. That day was the last he seen of him. A few weeks later Balgruuf had left on his own adventure where he met Irileth.

"Yes, it has been. I just returned to Skyrim, not but a few days ago," Jorik answered tiredly. "But enough of the pleasantries Jarl Balgruuf, Riverwood calls for aid. With dragons back, they need your protection now, more than ever."

"Dragons! Do you have news of Helgen?" Balgruuf asked, almost nervously. He wondered if Jorik had seen his parents before the fall of the village.

"Helgen is gone, all are dead. I've come across no survivors while there," Jorik snapped coldly, he didn't wish to relive Helgen.

"What of your…?" Balgruuf started, but was cut off.

"Dead!" Jorik growled, his voice issuing his warning to drop the question.

Balgruuf flinched and sat back in his chair. He felt pity for the man in front of him. To come home and watch your family die was a hardship few had to live through. He could see that it was a hardship Jorik was still suffering through.

"I'll send some soldiers to Riverwood immediately," Balgruuf stated, nodding to Ireleth.

Jorik nodded to the Jarl and started to turn away. He just made it off the steps before Balgruuf voice stopped him. "Jorik, for your efforts in coming with this information; here," Balgruuf began. Jorik looked at the armor the Jarl was holding out to him.

"No thank you. I didn't do this for a reward. I've watched too many people die to a dragon," Jorik stated harshly, before walking away, this time he didn't stop when he heard the Jarl call him.

Balgruuf sat on his throne and watched the man walk away. It grieved his knowing that Aden was dead, he had been a friend of his father, even came to the castle often after his father's passing.

He glanced around the room and noticed that every eye was on him. Without another word he walked to his chambers. His eyes fell on his son and he worried more. Something wasn't right with his son, but he didn't know what. His thoughts went back to Jorik, the pain he saw in the Nord's eyes when he spoke of Helgen.


	4. Chapter 4

**Well this is interesting. I have a few people message me telling me the romance they wanted to see. So far there is a vote for Balgruuf, another for Farengar, and one that surprised me was for an argonian named Derkeethus. Still not sure which one I want but I need to choose soon. IF you have any more suggestions let me know. **

**So please leave a review and let me know what you think of this story so far. **

Jorik sat down heavily on the bed he just rented in the Banned Mare. Sleep pulled at him, but he fought it off, he didn't want dreams tonight and knew there would be a lot of them. He didn't want to relive Helgen, seeing his mother and sister burn bodies in his dreams. He didn't want to remember the dragons roar as it took everything from him. He fought not to stretch out and close his eyes. He fought off exhaustion, but it was becoming a losing battle.

On the morrow he would go to Helgen and burry his family before bandits took advantage and moved into the burnt town. He couldn't bare thinking about bandits going through his family's things. He had aleady asked a few people to go with him. Most said no, not wanting to come across the dragon, while those for hire were too expensive for him. Tomorrow he would go by himself, but tonight, he wouldn't sleep.

He fought his eyes drifting close with no success, slowly he tumbled into the world of dreams.

_He walked through town heading home. He smiled softly as he saw his mother sitting in her chair mending clothing, his father was chopping wood. "Jorik, you're back," his mother murmured with a bright smile. _

"_Aye, I'm back for good," Jorik answered the smile, walking over to his mother and pulling her into a hug. _

"_Good. You're needed back here, your destiny calls you," His mother said. Jorik backed away from his mother, her voice had changed, growing deep, frightening. He stared at his mother as she shifted, her body growing turning into golden scales. A snout and sharp teeth replaced the beautiful smile he had just seen. But the eyes, those eyes were still kind, understanding, but held knowledge that was beyond anything they could ever hope to understand. _

"_Who are you?" Jorik asked with a cold voice. His back rigid as he stood his ground when all he wanted to do was run. _

"_I think you already know who I am, the question is are you ready for what awaits you?" the golden dragon asked. _

"_What awaits me?" Jorik asked, he silently cursed as his voice gave away his fear. _

"_Your destiny…" Jorik was about to ask more but couldn't. _

_The room faded, changing before his eyes. He stepped back as darkness met him. _

_Fear raced through his as he heard rythmic drumming of wings. He knew this sound well it was embedded in his mind. A forocisious black dragon hovered above him with sharp horns, watching him intently. Jorik waited for the fire that would kill him, he waited his death. His eyes widened as that dragon disappeared…_

Jorik woke panting, sweat drenched his body as he glanced around the room hastily. The dream had seemed so vivid and made no sense to him. 

~ooooooooo~

Kodlak glanced up startled as the Jarl of Whiterun walked into his room. He wasn't sure why the man was here of all places. This was the first time the Jarl had ever entered Jorrvaskr, it was an odd occurrence.

"Is there something I can do for you, my Jarl?" Kodlak asked, not able to keep the confusion out of his voice.

"I need someone from here to accompany someone I owe," Balgruuf said quietly, the sadness that he had felt since yesterday still bearing down on him.

"Who is it that needs our help?" Kodlak asked curiously. He had known the Jarl for many years, and never once seen him show this amount of emotions.

"His name is Jorik of Helgen. He just came back from Cyrodiil to end up in Helgen when the dragon attack. He's now heading back to Helgen to burry what's left of his family. I had Irileth find out the information, he leaves in the morning. I want one of your men to go with him, so he is not disturbed while burying his family," Balgruuf explained and waited for Kodlak answer.

"Aden is dead?" Kodlak asked shocked and sadden.

"You knew him?" Balgruuf asked, his eyes widening at this news.

"Yes, he came here quite often. I've known him since we were lads. I know Jorik too, he was a good lad, had potential in swords. When he was a lad, his father took him here. Jorik would train while his father and I would talk," Kodlak told the Jarl, his heart heavy at the loss of a friend.

"Aden, Malina and their daughter were killed in the dragon attack at Helgen. Jorik was the only survivor we know of from that travesty," Balgruuf said quietly as he took a seat on one of the empty chairs.

"I'll send Vilkas with him," Kodlak said as he watched the Jarl.

"Good, he needs someone there, no matter how much he denies it," Balgruuf murmured, his eyes growing distant.

~ooooooooooo~

Jorik packed up what little he had. The sun was barely showing as he made his way outside. He took a deep breath of the cool crisp air fortifying himself for what he had planned for the day.

"Are you Jorik of Helgen?" a heavily accented male voice asked. Jorik turned and took in the stranger. He wore wolf's armor, a two handed sword strapped to his back. His eyes were covered in war paint allowing the pale blue of them to stand out. He was about as tall as him, but no as robust. Jorik stared at his eyes, something was really familiar with them. He couldn't place it but he knew this person from when he was younger.

"I am and who are you?" he answered, watching the warrior intently.

"Vilkas, I'm a Companion ordered to accompany you," Vilkas answered watching Jorik just as intently. He wondered if Jorik remembered him. His intent stare said he might. He was surprised Kodlak had asked him to do this job. Lately he had been basically taking over for the Harbinger and then he was informed that he was protecting Jorik while he burried his family. He remembered Jorik from when they were younger and he was Jorrvaskr practicing with him and his brother. He remembered when they used to get into mischief around town.

Jorik's eyes widened when he heard the name. He hadn't seen Vilkas since the day he left.

"No Vilkas, not interested. I'll do this on my own," Jorik stated. There was no way he wanted anyone seeing him grieve, especially a person he only knew when he was a child. Sure they had been friends then, but that was years ago. It would be too humiliating.

"I know why you are going Jorik. Kodlak asked me to accompany you so you're not disturbed while burring your family. " Vilkas stated, not backing down from the cold look in Jorik's eyes. He understood why Jorik was protesting, but it didn't make a difference. He was going whether the man liked it or not.

It took a few more minutes, but Vilkas was finally allowed to accompany him. He was quiet as they moved quickly over the land. A few times they stopped to fight, by the time Vilkas had loosed his arrow the fight was already over. Vilkas had to smirk, Jorik was still as quick when they trained together. He remembered that the young nord could move fast, but his aim with his swings and arrows were lacking. It looked like he had improved greatly from when they were younger. They met with a pack of wolves, a few bears and a couple of bandits, all dispatched easily and quickly.

They stopped at the gates of Helgen. Jorik stood there staring at them, his heart racing. Behind these gates were the bodies of his family. With a fortifying breath he pushed the gates open.

Helgen was a mess, where there had been buildings were now replaced by rubble. Houses were burnt to a crisp, towers were collapsing, bodies were burnt, some barely recognizable while other….

He walked slowly through the town, sadness hitting him hard as he found his father first. He bowed his head and lifted the man into his arms. He walked over to where their house once was and went into the backyard placing his father's body down gently. He walked into the house grabbing his sister. He hesitated for a second when he heard the sounds of fighting. Seconds later the sounds of someone dying flowed over the air and he lifted his sister body placing her with his father. The last body he collected, with his family laid out beside each other he lit them. Silently he said his farewells.

When the bodies finished burning he walked into the demolished house and went to where his room used to be. He smiled sadly as he knelt down beside his old trunk. He was surprised it wasn't destroyed. Everything was in there that he had left. His spare armor from before he left to Cyrodiil that would never fit now, his swords that his father had bought him and a small stash of gold. He went to where his father's room would have been and wondered if the safe his father had in there was still intact.

He found a sealed letter with his name on it. He scanned the paper, the first tear streaking down his face.

_Jorik, my son,_

_I don't know if I'll be around when you come back here. Every letter we received from you was a boon, knowing that you were safe was all we could ask for. Never doubt that I didn't understand why you left, I even agree son. It was for the best. _

_My time is short here, so this letter is to tie up some final details. _

_First, everything I own goes to you. This house, my shop, and also the gold that is in this safe, it is your share. _

_Secondly, in Whiterun, the Jarl's steward has something there for you, if it's finished. I had Eorlund Greymane make it. Fetch it from the Steward. _

_And lastly, look after your sister, make sure she finds someone worthy of marrying her. Your mother has been running herself ragged helping her. When I pass, bring her to Markarth, we have some friends there that we consider family. It will do her some good staying with them. _

_Stay safe my son, _

_Love Aden. _

Jorik reread the letter and bowed his head. He looked down at the safe and collected everything out of it. He grabbed his old equipment and the letter. He found Vilkas standing guard outside with a few bodies lay at his feet.

"Let's get out of here," Jorik muttered as he led the way to the gates once more.

~oooooooooooooo~

He didn't bother seeing the Nord off, instead he went straight to the inn. He needed to forget for a short time at least. Maybe tomorrow would be a brighter day for him. He took a seat in one of the darken corners and started drinking.

Afternoon turned to night quickly, too quickly as far as he was concerned. The inn filled with patrons. He noticed a group of warrior entered the tavern. He saw Vilkas among the group. He smiled sadly as he saw a larger man sit beside him and knew that was Vilkas twin, Farkas. He glanced at the other fighters and didn't recognize the others. As the night waned one the group became loud and boisterous, it helped him ignore his emotions as he watched them.

After his sixth bottle of mead he headed to the room he rented. Tomorrow he would see the Stewart, and maybe close that chapter of his life.

Sleep came to him easily, for the first time in a long time there were no dreams that he remembered invaded. It was a relief, for the first time since he could remember he had a sound sleep.

~oooooooooo~

He walked outside, surprised it was so late already. It looked to be late morning. It had been a long while since he slept that long.

He made his way to the castle. His mind clearer, not as aggrieved as it had been. He met Balgruuf's eyes from across the hall before he walked over to his Steward. "I found a letter from my father stating you have something for me?" Jorik asked and showed him the letter. He knew there were some personal things in it, but people knew his father was dead and he hoped the man had the decency not to read everything.

"Ah yes. If you would follow me," the Steward said, leading him up the steps. Jorik smiled as he remembered his younger years walking up these very same steps.

He followed the man into his room. He was surprised he was allowed in this area. Jorik shrugged his shoulder, he was near the Jarl's personal quarters, and it was a first for him. "Here you go," the steward passed him a set of leather armor, excellent crafted. He could tell that these were made for combat, everything was reinforced, more than usual. Eorlund knew what he was doing and was very good at it.

"Is there a place where I can try these on?" Jorik asked.

The steward hesitated, "Follow me Jorik," Balgruuf voice came from behind him.

Jorik turned sharply, surprised that the Jarl was there. At first he thought he was about to receive a reprimand for being in this area. He followed the Jarl to his chambers. "You can try on the armor in here."

"Thank you, Jarl Balgruuf," Jorik murmured with a bow of his head.

"The title sounds odd coming from you. I still remember drinking with you when your father visited," Balgruuf murmured, trying hard not to think of that cave.

"Yes, and we can't forget the cave," Jorik murmured with a chuckle.

Balgruuf looked at him startled. He didn't see malice in the other man's eyes, there was true amusement. "No, there aren't any bandits in here. The guard told me it's empty," Jorik mocked the same words Balgruuf has said that very day.

"Yes well that guard was reprimanded. I found out later he was talking about another cave that was closer to Whiterun, one that I didn't know about," Balgruuf muttered, not sure how Jorik would take this news.

Jorik chuckled, "Thought that was the case," he murmured amused.

Balgruuf gave him a searching look. He saw Jork eyes shining they way they used to. This was the Jorik from when they were younger. Even though Jorik was a few years younger than him, there were times where he was older than him. "I have a favor to ask. With dragons back, my court wizard needs something, but I know it's an impossible mission. I've sent a few people out and they haven't returned. This artifact is important, but from what I understand, where it is, is very dangerous," Balgruuf told him.

"What is it exactly you need?" Jorik asked curious. This mission sounded challenging, something he was looking forward to.

"I'll let my court wizard explain to you," Balgruuf stated. He hoped his wizard kept a civil tongue, the Jorik he remembered didn't suffer fools gladly and Farengar could be a fool at time with his pompousness. Thinking himself better than others, it had annoyed many, but none said nothing because of the fear of magic.

The Jarl led Jorik to a smaller room off of the great hall. A wizard stood in front of a map, his brows crinkled in concentration. "Farengar, I have someone who might be willing to help you with the dragon research you're doing," The Jarl stated, interrupting his wizards studies.

Farengar turned to the Jarl and noticed a man standing there. His one eye were staring at him with a weight to them that made him ill at ease. It was like he just proven himself not worthy of the man's attention. That thought put him in a sour mood, he wasn't about to let a lack witted Nord make him feel inferior.

"Yes, I want you to go to Bleak Falls Barrow and fetch a stone tablet. It shouldn't be that hard for a brute as yourself," Farengar explained, taking pleasure as the man eyes narrowed. He wondered if the man even realized he'd been insulted.

"Yes, of course, one of your intellect and aptitude wouldn't do well in a dungeon. Once you've had the proper education, then maybe you'll be more comfortable in a more challenging realm," Jorik said pleasantly as he smirked at the wizard. He allowed his own magic flow over his hands, "Wouldn't want you to singe something important by accident, you know how it is with the inept." He drawled mockingly.

Fargnar blushed at the Nord's words, properly rebuked as Jorik smiled mockingly at him. He was shocked that this Nord had brains. Very few Nord's had knowledge other than how to swing a blade. But this Nord just put him in his place with, but a few words.

"There is a stone tablet deep within the bowls of the ruins. The place is dangerous, and the probability is high that the tablet isn't there," Faringar told him.

"You're right, the probability is very high it's not there," Jorik stated with a grin and placed the tablet onto the table. "Found it a few nights ago, before I even entered Whiterun with Riverwood's message."

"I should have guessed you wouldn't have a problem," Balgruuf said with a chuckle patting Jorik on the shoulder. "Your father would be proud of the man you've become."

Faringar looked to them both, and that was when he realized this was the man all the rumors were about. This was the man that the Jarl knew as a young man, before the old Jarl's death. He swallowed nervously, wondering if the Jarl would reprimand him later about the way he spoke to his friend. He hoped not.

"If that is all, then I'll take my leave. I have some missions to do for other people around town," Jorik murmured about to turn away.

"Don't you want your reward?" Balgruuf asked with a smirk. He passed him an enchanted battle axe and an ebony long sword, plus a small bag of coin. He knew Jorik would need it, having nothing and then having to start all over again, would be hard. He knew Jorik was renting a room at the Banned Mare, but that could only last for so long before he ran out of money.


	5. Chapter 5

**Well here is a new chapter. Tomorrow there won't be as many chapters. After tomorrow this story will only be updated once a week. **

The weeks passed quickly, the knowledge of dragons returning was quickly fading. Those weeks turned into two months and then three months and there was still no sign of dragons. People were starting to think that one dragon had met its demise.

Jorik knew better, but he kept silent. That same presence he had felt when Alduin made his appearance and in the ruins was still there, waiting. He could still feel the dragon, somewhere out there.

Some days would see him at Dragonreach talking with the Balgruuf, other days would see him spending time with Kodlak. When he wasn't at either places' he was out in the wilderness doing missions for people who had asked for his help.

Now there were messages being sent to him from other holds. Helga would hold onto them until he returned. Whiterun was his new home, people here knew him and welcome him. He even had offers from some of the residences for him to reside at their houses. To his amusement there had been a couple offers of marriage. Those he turned down as gently as possible.

He walked into the Bannered Mare and smirked as Mikael scowled at him. For the longest time he had all of the women to himself. Now, most of the females and a few men turned to him for a night of fun. He didn't mind, actually he now looked forward to his nights. He never knew who he would find in his room waiting for him.

"Helga, do you have any more bounties that need to be cleared up?" Jorik asked as he took a seat at the bar.

"No, you've done the last of them," Helga answered as she brought over his mead.

Jorik sat in silence, wonder what to do now. He had a few missions that took him out of town to Falkreath and Riften, but there wasn't enough to do the trip. Two missions, was not worth the time to make that long of a trip. He sighed, finishing his mead, trying to come up with a plan. Instead of staying downstairs like he usually did he went to his room. He sighed in relief when there wasn't a female waiting for him.

He glanced at the trunk at the end of his bed. Helga had it moved up here for him a while back. She had basically made this his room, but he wanted a house of his own, not a room in an inn.

He looked at the stack of message on his table. His eyes widened, there hadn't been that many before. He scanned through them, there were a few new ones. He grinned, tomorrow he would head out and start the missions.

~ooooooooooooo~

Balgruuf sat in his room, court was now over for the day. He was surprised Jorik hadn't stopped by. He wondered if Jorik was going to buy the house he offered. He picked up the stack of reports waiting for him. His steward had already went over them, but they needed his signature or his attention.

A few were reports of what was going on in Whiterun. Most had Jorik name mentioned in them somewhere. He wasn't surprised that Jorik had made a name for himself here. He glanced at the other notes, smiling for the first time today. The problems with bandits nearby were eradicated, all the caves and old ruins near Whiterun were clear for now. It was good news, he wouldn't have to worry about people in his hold dying unexpectedly for the next little while.

He glanced up when the door to his office opened. "My Jarl, there is a problem, a dragon has been spotted near the eastern watch tower," his steward said urgently.

Balgruuf rose to his feet quickly and rushed to the war room where everyone was waiting. He was surprised to see Jorik there. "I requested that Jorik to be present since he was there for the Helgen attack," Irileth stated.

They all listened to what the guard had to say. Balgruuf was so focused on the guards words, that it didn't register someone was leaving. He glanced around when the report was done. Jorik was already gone. He knew where the Nord was heading, and hoped his guards and the Companions would get there in time to help him.

~ooooooooooooo~

Jorik ran as fast as he could towards the tower in the distance. He heard other join him, but couldn't be bothered, he had one focus.

Ireleth and the Companions followed closely behind Jorik. She was surprised at the pace he was keeping. If he kept this place up, he wouldn't have any energy for the fight that was to come.

Jorik felt something inside of him rise and fill him. He felt powerful, he could feel the other dragon near. His mind blanked as he stared up the skies. A thundering roar sliced through the murmur of the guards.

Jorik watched as the dragon flew overhead, he grinned, a part of him that he never knew he had anticipated the fight, wanted this fight, this challenge. The noise surrounding Jorik vanished, a voice older than anything whispered through him, saying words he knew nothing of. A language he only ever heard in his dreams. Chanting that had happened at the stone wall from the crypt grew within him, thrumming through him. Words he knew nothing of spurted out of his mouth, "Meyz Dovah, krif al do wuth." (Come dragon, fight as of old.)

People stopped and stared at Jorik, his eyes pure black as his voice filled the air. They listened as he uttered words that no one knew anything of. They backed away from him uncertainly, the dragon no longer flying around. It had landed in one spot further away from them, but closer to Jorik. Jorik stood alone fighting it, speaking to it. They watched as the dragon was about to fall. "No, Dovahkiin," everyone heard the dragon say with his final breath.

Jorik stood there swaying – Dovahkiin. That one word thrummed through him. The word he saw months ago, burned bright, filled his being. He opened his mouth – "Fus" – split the air, thundering from his mouth.

He felt different, like waking from a long slumber. His body felt more invigorated, his mind clearer, sharper. What was once a mystery to him, that old language, he understood what it was. Dragon tongue, he didn't know the language fluently, but now he had answers. Knowledge filled him, the dragon that he had killed, Mirmulnir, his presences filled him when he taken the dragon's soul. He knew that was what he did, absorbed the dragon's soul. Dovahkiin, Dragonborn, every Nord knew the old tales of Talos and other Dragonborn.

"You're Dragonborn," a soldier breathed in awe.

Jorik said nothing, there was nothing he could say. He glanced around him at the people watching. He noticed a few of the Companions were there, quite a few of the guards. It wasn't a secret, people knew what he was.

"You should inform the Jarl what happened here," Ireleth stated, looking at him oddly. She had seen many unusual things, but never something like this.

Jorik nodded as he walked away, stunned by the events that just happened. He had felt different when he absorbed the soul, and still felt different. If he was to believe the old tales then he had a soul of a dragon.

He walked into the castle heading straight for Balgruuf. He knew without a word being said that everyone had heard the shout from the mountains. It had thundered across the skies calling for the Dovahkiin. Jorik stood there watching as Bulgruuf and his brother talked.

"What happened at the watch tower?" Bulgruuf asked urgently.

"The dragon is dead, Irileth and the soldiers that were there defeated the dragon. The tower needs repairs, but other than that it's safe enough for now," Jorik answered.

"I knew I could count on Irileth," Balgruuf murmured with a relieved grin. "But something else happened didn't it?"

Jorik stared at him for a moment, "No, nothing of importance," he stated firmly.

"Then why would the Greybeards call for the Dragonborn?" Balgruuf asked with knowing eyes.

"That is for them to know and whoever it is they called," Jorik answered firmly. "If there is nothing else, then I shall take my leave."

"Irileth will be returning soon. She'll have the answers I am looking for Jorik," Balgruuf warned.

Jorik didn't bother answering as he walked out of the castle. He nodded to the guards that greeted him, but other than that he wouldn't allow anything else to change. He walked into his room at the Bannered Mare, he could feel people staring at him. He knew what happened at the towers had already made its rounds, he wouldn't be able to keep it a secret for long. He smiled grimly, he finally had the answers he was looking for. All those strange dreams had been telling him he was the Dragonborn.

~oooooooooo~

Irileth stood in front of the Jarl after securing the tower. She had brought two guards with her, for their side of the story if the Jarl wished to hear.

"What happened out there?" Balgruuf asked impatiently.

"Didn't Jorik explain to you what happened?" Irileth asked uncertainly, she never thought Jorik one to hide things.

"He said, _you_ defeated the dragon, and the tower is safe once more," Balgruuf told her impatiently.

Irileth stared speechlessly at her Jarl. She couldn't utter a word if she wanted to. She knew her shock was showing with her mouth hanging open, but she was stupefied that Jorik had said she did it.

"Irileth?" Balgruuf asked raising a brow. He had never seen her this shocked or show this amount of emotion through her usual calm mask.

"We didn't kill the dragon. We didn't even hit the dragon. When the dragon flew overhead, Jorik said some words in a different language. Then he moved far away and the dragon landed right in front of him. We were going to help, but he snarled at us to stay away. After that the fight was between him and the dragon. He killed the dragon and something strange happened, the dragon went up in flames and something surrounded him. One of the Nords called him Dragonborn, though I am not too sure about that," Irileth explained. She wasn't even sure what happened out there.

"So the Greybeards had been calling for him," Balgruuf murmured as he walked away. Irileth followed closely behind him, waiting for her next orders. "In the morning have one of the guards escort Jorik here." He sat on his throne contemplating who would be best suited as a housecarl for Jorik.

"What are you planning Balgruuf?" Irileth asked.

"I am to make him Thane. He has more than earned the title. Everything he has done for my hold and its people over the past few months' shows that he has more than earned the title. Now I just need to figure out who to have as his Housecarl. The person needs to be an excellent fighter, loyal, able to keep their silence of their Thane's private life," he murmured thoughtfully.

Irileth listened to the list, that didn't leave many candidates. Too many of the soldiers weren't good enough to fight by Jorik's side. Plus this person had to be able to not pass judgment on anything he did, she knew that quite a few guilds would be looking to have him join and some of those guilds didn't have the best names. They also had to be able to think straight with him around. She had noticed how most of the females ogled him, she even noticed some males ogling him too. She had to admit he wasn't bad looking for a human. Unfortunately, that cut down the list a lot.

Irileth walked into the barracks, easier to think this way. She glanced around and noticed Lydia talking with the other soldiers. She thought Lydia was still on the mission that she had given her. Then she remembered that she had come back late last night. She didn't need to look any further, all she needed was Balgruuf permission. "Lydia, follow me," Irileth ordered as she headed for the door. She knew she didn't need to make sure the girl was following.

"What's going on?" Lydia asked as she followed Irileth. She had automatically grabbed her sword and shield, before heading to the door. She didn't expect Irileth to answer, but followed her to the main hall. Her curiosity piqued as they walked over to the Jarl.

"Balgruuf, I think we found who we are looking for," Irileth stated as she moved out of the way to show Lydia.

"I think you might be right Irileth," Balgruuf said thoughtfully as he walked around Lydia. He noticed that the woman always kept him in sight and ready to defend herself at a moment's notice. He smirked as she met his gaze without flinching, her hand at her side near the hilt of her sword. It wasn't a threatening posture, but a ready one. "Have you heard of Jorik?" he asked.

"The Nord that comes here often? Yes, I've spoken to him a few times. Even sparred with him once," she answered with a grin.

"How did you fair sparring against him?" Balgruuf asked curiously. This was the first he heard of Jorik sparring with anyone without the other person scowling.

"It was interesting. He's a good fighter and very controlled. He beat me easily, but I was able to get a few good shots in," Lydia answered trying to keep the grin off her face. The shocked look on the Jarl face wasn't making it any easier.

"I am making Jorik Thane, but there is a good chance that he will not be around Whiterun much. He has been called by the Greybeards, though he denies that he is Dragonborn," Balgruuf told her watching her expression closely.

"What is you wish me to do my Jarl?" Lydia asked bowing her head respectfully. She knew Jorik and the Jarl were friends, one of the Jarl's trusted friends.

"If you are to be housecarl to Jorik, you'll need to remain silent about his personal life. Your job will be simular to Proventius along with the usual housecarl role.. He hasn't yet bought a house, he is planning on it, but doesn't have the funding yet," Irileth stated.

"What do you mean simular as Proventius?" Lydia asked, making sure she understood what they expected of her.

"Your positions will be more than a housecarl, to protect everything he owns and him. Jorik is a very private man and there only a few he trusts. But people all around the nine holds call on him to answer their problems. He receives letters most days, usually he doesn't have time for the simplest things. Your job is to make his life easier, _any way you can_," Balgruuf stated, he cracked a smile when he saw the question in her eyes, but he also saw the answer. He knew then that she would be a good housecarl. She didn't look disgusted or overburden with the rules he placed on her. He wondered if she understood his hidden meaning, when he saw the intent stare he knew she understood the hidden message.

"Where do I stay when he doesn't need my services?" Lydia asked.

"Here at the castle," Irileth answered and then nodded her dismissal.

They waited until Lydia was out of sight, "what do you think?"

"I think she will be perfect. She's not subservient, but she knows what to ask and not ask. Jorik isn't an easy man to get to know and I think Lydia might be able to earn his trust," Balgruuf answered.

~oooooooooooo~

Jorik made his way up to the castle with two guards following him. He had been informed that he been requested at the castle. It wasn't often Balgruuf requested his presence. He walked into the main hall, Balgruuf sat on his throne.

"You requested my presence?" Jorik asked with an amused look.

"Irileth told me what you didn't," Balgruuf stated, watching him closely.

"Then you have the information you wanted, so why do you need me here?" Jorik asked with a quirk of his brow.

"You are Dragonborn, whether you like it or not. The Greybeard have called you, and you should see them. They can help explain better what it means to be Dragonborn," Balgruuf told him firmly.

Jorik bowed his head, running a frustrated hand through his braided hair. He sighed and met the Jarl's eyes. "I guess I can't escape destiny now can I. I'll see the Greybeards when I am ready, not until then. As for Dragonborn, yes I am, but I am not sure if I want it," Jorik told him tiredly. He didn't say this to the Jarl, he said this to his friend. He dropped his stoic mask, showing Balgruuf his turmoil. He could see understanding in the other man's eyes and knew he wouldn't push this situation.

"There is another thing we need to do. For all of your service for Whiterun Hold. I name you Thane of Whiterun. Lydia will be your housecarl, she is a trustworthy woman," Balgruuf told him.

"What is expected of me with this new title?" Jorik asked leery, he had heard of Thane. Most aspired to be one, it meant honor, prestige, but it also meant that you're at the keep most of your time.

"I expect nothing more or less than what you have been doing," Balgruuf stated. "It's an honorary title, but one that shows all you've done for my hold."

"Then I accept," Jorik murmured as he bowed to Balgruuf. "Now I need to speak with your Steward, I have a house to finally purchase and furnish."

Balgruuf grinned as he motioned Jorik towards the stairs. Now that his friend was taken care of he could turn himself to his other worries. The war and Ulfric. He knew Ulfric wanted his allegiance, but he couldn't turn his back on the Empire. They were what brought coin into Skyrim, and Skyrim needed them or they would be back to warring with each other.


	6. Chapter 6

**So still unsure who the romance is for. Was going to go for Balgruuf but decided against it. Hope you enjoy the new chapter. Leave me a review and let me know what you think. **

Jorik sat in his new house, going over messages that Lydia had collected from the couriers. He didn't know what to do, the presence within himself was always there now. If he was honest, it always had been there, but never this strong. It didn't seem to be waning.

His first option was to see the Greybeards, but he wasn't ready for that. The other option was to do these missions and forget about the Greybeards. He needed to clear his mind before he made any decisions.

He searched through the pile at the closest request. It was crumbling fort filled with bandits, it would do to occupy his mind for a bit. He glanced up when the doors open, Lydia walked in with the potions he had requested.

"Take five healing potions for yourself, we're heading in a few minutes," Jorik ordered. Over the past few weeks he had watched his housecarl intently, unsure of her. He had to admit she made his life easier, he would give an order and she would do it without hesitation. As for fighting, he hadn't tested her in that area yet. He wanted to get this house done and most missions he left on his own, not needing someone to cover his back. Now it was time to test her.

Within a few minutes they were on their way towards the gates. The burdens that had been plaguing him over the past few days burned away as the sun shone down on them.

He glanced over his shoulder to see if Lydia was following. He was surprised that she was keeping up with him. He didn't tell her where they were going, or why, neither did she ask. It was odd, having someone that trusted him that much or followed his lead that easily.

They reached the old fort by midday. He slowed and stopped just before a hill. Movement could be seen on the walls, he counted ten men. Faintly he could see movement near the open gates and that made it more dangerous. There were more people than he predicted.

"How are you with a bow?" Jorik asked.

"I know how to use one," Lydia answered automatically.

"Peg off as many as you can off the walls. When they are thinned out enough I'll go in," Jorik told her. He watched as she started pegging them off. He smirked, she wasn't the best with a bow, but good enough to get the job done. Quickly he moved without warning, the first guy he met at the gates he took out easily enough.

He moved to the center of what used to be a training yard and attacked the next mercenary. Jorik moved around, never staying in one spot long. There were still archers on the walls, and their attention was on him. He hissed when he found he had cornered himself and four men flanked him. Silently he cursed himself as he blocked the swipes. He thrust his blade deep within one. He didn't have a chance to block the incoming blade to his arm. He prepared himself for the pain, but none came. He glanced to where the man had been and found him lying on the ground eyes staring sightlessly.

He looked at the other that lay dead and looked to his housecarl. His brow raised and he grinned. "Excellent timing," Jorik said with a chuckle.

"Are you injured?" Lydia asked urgently. Her first day out protecting her Thane and it wouldn't look good if he got injured.

"No a scratch, you killed the ass before his sword could land," Jorik told her, nudging one of the mercenaries with his boot. "Let's go clear out the inside."

It took a while to clear out the fort. By the end they were moving as a team, able to read each other. Lydia was just finishing the last large room, he went to the smaller room to finish collecting items to be sold when they made it back to town. He hadn't thought anyone would be in there. He had been wrong and hadn't been prepared.

Lydia glanced over to her Thane as he moved to the smaller room. She had just finished killing the last of them. Her eyes narrowed when she noticed a shadow in the room. Quickly she moved, but she wasn't fast enough to stop the blade descending.

She stopped dead when Jorik's eyes turned pitch black. Her eyes widened as he shouted as a dragon would. One word and the other guy was stumbling back. Jorik's sword plunged home. Lydia couldn't take her eyes off of her Thane. His eyes were still black when he turned to her. She sheathed her sword and backed away slowly. She felt like a prey now, not a warrior who had helped clear out a fort filled with mercenaries.

She stood there waiting to see what her Thane would do. Even if that meant she took his blade and he took her life. She didn't like it, but she was his housecarl. She let out a breath slowly as his one eye turned back to bright green and the other was nearly white.

"My Thane?" Lydia questioned cautiously.

Jorik stood there trying to slow his racing heart. His thoughts slowly returned to normal, and not the blood lust he was just went through. He remembered everything, but then that part of him had rose, helping him. He couldn't deny it any more, he was dragonborn and he needed help. It was time to see the Greybeards.

"We're heading to Whiterun, spending the night and then we are going to see the Greybeards," Jorik told her before heading for the exit.

~ooooooooooo~

Lydia waited in the large hall for her Thane. He had just returned with the horn. She hoped he found the answers he was looking for. A few times now she had seen his eyes change, he would be a predator, deadly and dangerous. When his eyes were like that, many animals ran in fear. She didn't know what it was, but hopefully the Greybeards knew.

She had listed to them announce that he was the Dragonborn. She witnessed the ritual. She wasn't supposed to be up here, but Jorik had demanded that she stayed. They had conceded when his eyes turned. It seemed to only happen when he was upset or injured or in danger.

"Now can you answer some questions?" Jorik asked patiently.

"Of course, if we have the answer," One of the Greybeards answered.

"Why does it feel like there is something taking me over at times?" Jorik asked. This was the question that plagued him. He feared what was happening, this change to him. He fought that other part, trying to keep hold of himself.

"You fight who and what you are. You are Dragonborn, with the soul and blood of a dragon. This thing that takes you over doesn't. It is a part of you, not something different than you. You look at it as if it's another part of you, when it is not. If you would accept what you are, you would not have to fight with yourself. This is part of being Dragonborn," he answered.

Jorik stood there thinking on what he had said. Could he accept this change? He must have been quiet for too long. "Remember this, you've always been Dragonborn, the only difference now, is your abilities have just awoken."

Jorik stood there, thinking of his past. In a way it wasn't that different than before. Only now it was noticeable. His anger used to be something to be feared, as it was now. He had always loved being outdoors more than inside. The only difference now, was he knew things. Sights, sounds, smells, were more acute than before. When that part of him took over, he could still think somewhat, but it was in its most basic form.

"I think I understand what you are saying," Jorik murmured before taking his leave.

~oooooooooooooo~

A month passed by quickly. So many people wanted his attention, now that it was known he was the Dragonborn. He was surprised at how fast word spread about his new title.

It had taken a while for him to accept his nature. He was a man, but with a soul of a dragon. He was hunter, not the prey. His eyes changed quite often now, but now he didn't fight it.

Lydia was pretty sure Lydia was used to the changes, she knew how to read him very well. She never once complained, or commented when he'd do something that wasn't normal. Most had looked at him in fear when he spoke the dragon language, but not her.

Jorik sat in his house, it was small, but suited his needs. He smirked as Lydia came down the stairs, if it wasn't for her, his life would be chaos. She kept the requests in order, made sure he had plenty of potions always ready.

He glanced at the stack of requests, some he wouldn't do, and those were at the bottom of the pile. Lydia knew his preferences of what was important. "Kodlak sent another request that you join the Companions," Lydia told him as she took a seat across from him.

"And the answer is still the same," Jorik muttered. "I don't have time to join the Companions."

"That's what I told him, but your missions are becoming slimmer now. Soon, you might have a chance," Lydia told him.

"Maybe, my father would have wanted me to join them," Jorik murmured.

"The Jarl of Solitude wants to speak with you. Jarl of Windhelm is asking for you, as is General Tullius. Both of them want you to choose a side in the war," Lydia told him holding her breath. Her Thane didn't want to be involved in the war, he didn't want to turn against the Imperial's but he didn't want to turn against men who had offered respite and helped him out of Helgen when the dragon attack.

"Anything else?" Jorik asked calmly. He needed to choose soon, he knew this. But he needed to know where Balgruuf stood in the war.

"There are a few missions in the Reach that require your attention," Lydia said as he glanced over the other papers. She smirked, being Jorik's housecarl wasn't as bad as she thought it was going to be. When the Jarl had told her she would be taking on so much, she thought she wouldn't be able to appease her Thane, but that wasn't the case. He didn't expect her to run his baths, or clean his clothes. He didn't expect her clean his house unless she made the mess. She was to take care of missives, money, and purchasing, also protecting him and his house.

"Is there anything else?" Jorik asked as he read over the latest missives.

"Jarl Bulfruuf wishes to speak with you," Lydia told him. She waited for any reaction to let her know why her Thane hadn't been up to Dragonsreach much over the past year. She knew missions have kept him busy, but it wasn't like her Thane. He may go up there once a month, yet before he found out he was dragonborn he had been up there quite a few times within a week, sometimes everyday.

"I'll go there shortly," Jorik murmured with a sad smile. Lydia looked at him in confusion why he would have a sad look. As far as she knew, him and the Jarl were good friends. She kept silent knowing she shouldn't involve herself.

~oooooooooo~

Jorik walked up the steps leading to Bulgruuf's room. He wasn't sure what the Jarl wanted to talk to him about. He had avoided the man as much as possible without it looking like he was shunning in.

He smiled sadly as the guards bowed him and opened the doors to the Jarl's personal suites.

"Jorik, I didn't think you'd come," Bulgruuf murmured when he saw his friend at the door. "How did the training with the Greybeards go?"

"I learnt a lot. Understand things better now and accepted changes that I will have to do in my life just for the safety for people," Jorik answered sadly as he met Bulgruuf's eyes. He knew what he felt for the Jarl was wrong and knew the man could never return it. But it didn't matter, with his dragon blood, it would be insane to fall for someone, or to have any type of romantic relationship where strong feels could be involved. One night stands were fine, there was no emotion, just relief. But even then he had to be careful that he didn't lose himself to the passions. If that happened, the chances were high that he would let loose a shout without realizing it.

With Balgruuf, there was emotions involved, at least for him. More emotions made control his dragon side so much harder. He didn't know how many times Lydia had mentioned his eyes changing.

Lydia understood now, but the Jarl in front of him may never understand and it wasn't even safe to try. So distance between the two of them was the answer.

Balgruuf stared at him, trying to figure out what he was not saying. It almost sounded like Jorik wouldn't be coming for his visits. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

They talked for a few more minutes before Jorik left. He couldn't ask the questions that he had wanted to ask, Jorik seemed so distant. He had thought they had become very close friends over the year, but it seems like he was wrong, but that didn't seem right either.

~ooooooooooooooo~

Jorik stayed up late into the night. Lydia was already in bed and he stared at the message Kodlak had sent him. He knew it would be what his father would want. He also knew he needed to take care of the dragon problem, but he didn't trust that woman. He was positive that she had alterative motive that involved him somehow and didn't pertain to the dragons. He needed more information on the Blades before he made any decisions where she was concerned.

With a slow nod he left the note on the table, well away from the others. He decided, he would join the Companions. It would help him out in the process, he needed more work on his sword work.

With a slight smile, something he hadn't done in days he headed to his bed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Here is another chapter. Hope you guys enjoy. Would really love to hear about your thoughts on this story. Let me know what you think.**

~ooooooooooo~

Jorik stepped out of his house greeted by the bright morning sun. He could see storm clouds coming from the north and new winter was going to hit soon. The temperature had already turned cooler, but not cold enough to get out the heavy furs.

He glanced behind him when the doors opened and he heard a gasp. "Lydia you don't need to go with me for this. I'm just talking with Kodlak," Jorik explained with mild amusement.

"You've chosen to join the Companions?" Lydia asked with a happy smile.

"I plan on it, but…" Jorik trailed off and stared at the mountain in the back ground. He knew he should continue on with hunting down Ulduin…

"_Not yet…" a voice whispered. _

Jorik glanced around nervously, but saw no one. He knew this voice and fear it. He didn't know who it was, but it was the same voice from Helgen. He wasn't sure if he should follow what the voice said and wait to kill Ulduiin or find the dragon as quickly as possible.

He sighed shaking his head, _no he couldn't face the dragon yet_ he knew this.

"I'll be back later," he told Lydia and then walked away.

~ooooooooooooooo~

Jorik walked into Jorrvaskr and smirked when he stopped and watched two people fight. He stood near the doors listening to the bets being place and the ribbing. He could see that these people thought of themselves as a family. The atmosphere was warm, reminded him of when he was a kid and visited here.

He watched the dark elf drop to the floor when the woman caught him with a mean right hook. He could see that the fight was over and chuckled as he watched money pass hands. He shook his head in amusement and headed for the stairs where he knew Kodlak would be.

He walked down the hallway and ignored the curious stares from a few people. He stopped at Kodlak's door when he heard Vilkas and Kodlak talking. He kept his back to the door and tried to ignore the voices, waiting for them to finish. When silence descended within the chamber he walked in without warning. Vilkas sat in one chair dressed in his wolf armor, Kodlak sat in another dressed in clothing instead of armor. Jorik found it odd, but didn't bother questioning it.

"Jorik, what can I do for you?" Kodlak asked as he walked into the room. Kodlak gave a small smile as he watched Jorik walk further into the room. He reminded him so much of his father. The same build – large and stocky, the same smiling green eyes. The main difference was Jorik had dark hair and his father had light blonde hair.

"Received your message. I'll join," Jorik answered and narrowed his eyes when he saw the scowl on Vilkas face. "What Vilkas, don't want me joining?" Jorik asked, keeping his voice emotionless.

Vilkas was shocked for a moment when he heard that Kodlak sent Jorik a message. He was even more shocked when Jorik confronted him. He wasn't sure how to answer wihtout giving away their secret. He glanced at Kodlak but there was no help there, the old man was watching him just as intently. It wasn't that he didn't want Jorik to join, he did want Jorik to receive the beast blood. He knew Jorik would move up the ranks and eventually be given the choice, but it was fair.

"The choice is not mine to make," Vilkas answered quietly.

"Vilkas take him outside and test his arm," Kodlak stated with a smirk.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Vilkas asked quietly.

"Last I check Jorrvaskr had empty bed," Kodlak said pointedly. He watched Vilkas shoulder's slump as he rose from his seat.

"Follow me," Vilkas motioned for Jorik to follow him. He knew the nord would become a companion today. He also knew if Jorik hadn't left those years ago he would already be part of the circle, but with the way things were right now he didn't think it was fair to have Jorik join. He didn't understand why Kodlak was for this.

They walked outside to the back where the practice area was. Vilkas grabbed a short blade and shield. He motioned for Jorik to chose a blade. Vilkas glanced at the blades Jorik carried and was glad that they were using the blunted blades.

"Give me a few good swings," Vilkas ordered.

"Hmm, squeamish? Just a few good swings is how you are going to test my arm?" Jorik asked mockingly.

Vilkas smirked and shook his head. He walked back to the table and grabbed a two handed sword. Jorik wanted a full out fight, he would give him one and wipe that mocking smirk off his face while he was at.

Vilkas didn't bother finding out if Jorik was ready, he swung out using the reach of the blade to his advantage. He smirked as Jorik swore and jumped back.

"Tsk, tsk, temper," Jorik mocked as he gave a few swings, testing Vilkas' movements. He could feel eyes on him and gave the sitting area a quickly glance. It seemed everyone was there to watch his testing, even Kodlak.

"Looks like we have an audience," Jorik murmured to Vilkas.

Vilkas scowled when he noticed everyone sitting around and watching them. He was surprised to see Kodlak with them. "Looks like," Vilkas bit out.

Jorik rolled his eyes, he never remembered Vilkas to be this testy when he was a kid. Looks like time had changed a lot of people and not all for the good.

Jorik grinned and moved swiftly, taking a swipe at Vilkas' middle. His grinned grew when he heard the clang of metal on metal. Vilkas' great sword was there blocking his swipe. He enjoyed a challenge and he knew fighting Vilkas would be a good challenge. He wondered absently if he would be able to beat the nord. He highly doubted it, but it was a thought.

Kodlak sat in one of the chair, watching the fight that was going on. He wasn't surprised at all when Jorik placed Vilkas on the defensive. What did surprise him was how swiftly the Nord was moving, and not showing signs of tiring yet. He smiled softly, pride shining in his eyes that Jorik had remembered the training he had received here.

Breaths were held when Jorik disarmed Vilkas. Aela stood up, ready to defend her shield brother in case the other Nord didn't stop. She had to admit, the new nord knew how to fight and was deadly. She had noticed him around town for a while, but thought nothing of it. She remember hearing some people call him Thane or Dragonborn, but she never really pay attention to those names. Now her curiosity was piqued about this man.

She watched as the nord pinned Vilkas and leaned over him. Her worry diminishing when she saw the amusement in the man's eyes. She glanced at Kodlak and was surprised to see pride in the old man's eyes. Her eyes narrowed, "Who is he?" Alea asked quietly of the old man.

"Jorik, he used to come here years ago when he was just a lad," Kodlak told her. Alea turned her attention back to the man and vaguely remembered Farkas, Vilkas and a dark hair boy playing together a while ago. She wondered if that dark hair lad was Jorik.

Jorik sheathed his sword and smirked at Vilkas as he straddled his waist, pinning him to the ground, the dull edge of his blade resting lightly on Vilkas' neck, "Does this mean I get the spoils?" Jorik asked with a wink.

"Get off of me!" Vilkas growled, his cheeks flushing slightly at Jorik's suggestion. "I see you haven't changed much since we were lads."

"Oh I have… up to a point," Jorik chuckled as he rose to his feet. He held out a hand to the other man.

"Welcome to the Companions, your father would be proud Jorik," Kodlak stated as he rose from his seat. Jorik caught the surprised glanced of a few people. He never really met the others, he knew Vilkas, Farkas and Kodlak, but the others he had stayed away from when he was younger.

Jorik was about to walk over to Kodlak but Vilkas stopped him. "Talk to Farkas if you want a job, but I would suggest you wait till tomorrow," he said.

Farkas walked over to Jorik, "Been a long time since I've seen Vilkas disarmed. Not since the last time you disarmed him when we were kids," Farkas murmured with a chuckle.

"That was a long time ago, I'm surprised you remembered that." Jorik asked with a smirk.

"I remember lots of when we were kids. I remember how you would be out here practicing on the dummies while your father was here," Farkas said seriously. "I also remember you got into as much trouble as we did…"

"Yeah… that was a long time ago," Jorik said quietly before walking back into Jorrvaskr.

"What was that all about?" Vilkas asked surprise that Jorik left without a word.

"Not sure," Farkas murmured with a confused look.

~ooooooooooooooo~

Jorik sat at the large table trying hard not to remember his past life. He didn't want to remember what forced him to leave. He glanced up when someone took a seat next to him. "Something you wanted?" Jorik asked Vilkas.

"Something wrong?" Vilkas countered.

"No, nothing important," Jorik muttered as he rose to his feet. He looked down at Vilkas. "I'll be back in the morning to get the mission off of Farkas."

Vilkas was in shock as Jorik left without anymore words to anyone. He had never known the lad to be so cold, he wondered what happened with the man to make him so. He listened to the sounds of everyone walking in and taking seat.

"Where is Jorik?" Kodlak asked.

"Gone, he'll be back in the morning," Vilkas told him. "It seems like something is bothering him."

"And it will till its resolved," Kodlak murmured sadly.

~ooooooooooooooooo~

Jorik sat in his small house and stared at the four bottles of mead he polished off. He smirked as another joined the group, his head was buzzing, but his memories were still there. He wished he could forget that time, but it didn't seem that would be possible.

"My Thane, is everything alright?" Lydia asked worriedly.

"Yeah, just the past haunting me is all. Return to bed, I'll be fine," Jorik ordered.

"I think you should head in, pretty soon you'll be passed out on the floor," Lydia stated as she moved over to him.

"Yeah alright," he muttered rising to his feet. He grabbed the table as he started swaying. "Shit!" he muttered when he nearly toppled to the ground. He glanced down at the black haired woman who was now helping him stand. He tried not putting most of his weight on her as they stumbled up the stairs.

He brain was fogging when his body hit the bed. He felt relief as both his boots were removed and small hands were going to the buckles of his armor. He wanted to grabbed those warm willing hands and drag the body closer but those hands kept swatting him away.

Lydia scowled at her Thane, she was trying to get him comfortable but he wasn't making it easy. She finally got his armor off and now she was going to clean up the mess down stair before retiring. She stopped at the door when she heard him mumble in his sleep. The words made no sense but she had heard one man that wasn't familiar – Argis.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you all for reading this story. I hope you guys have been enjoying it. Thank you to those who have reviewed. **

Jorik woke early the next morning, the sun was just barely out. He groaned as his head pounded, his stomach was threatening to turn. He thought about going back to sleep, but decided not to, he still had to get that mission from Farkas.

Slowly he rose from the warm bed, shivered as the chill of the house hit him. He grabbed one of the health potions and downed in, hoping it would take care of his headache.

He glanced up as his door opened. He was surprised to see Lydia standing there with a plate of food. This was a first, her bringing him food.

"I don't think I will be eating," Jorik muttered looking at the food with distaste when his stomach turned once more.

"You need to eat, and this potion should help," Lydia murmured with a smirk. She chuckled as he downed the potion with a grimace.

Lydia squirmed in place, wanting to ask the question that was on her mind, but knowing it wasn't her place to ask. She was his housecarl and any questions of his past weren't her business. But the name had stuck with her.

"What is it Lydia?" Jorik asked with annoyance when his housecarl wouldn't stop watching him.

Lydia took a breath and met his eyes squarely, "Who is Argis?" she asked, waiting for her Thane to blow in anger.

Jorik ran his finger down the scar he had, running over his blind eye. "Someone from my past that I want to avoid," Jorik muttered with a grimace.

"How do you plan on avoiding him?" Lydia asked, now she was worried. It was her job to protect her Thane, but now she knew there might be danger to her Thane. She needed to know this information.

"By avoiding Markarth area. My father took me there a couple of months before I left and I won't return," Jorik stated with a pointed look. He watched the question Lydia had been about to ask die before given voice.

Jorik thought back to that time…

_My father and I were travelling to Markarth to pick up the shipment of wares. The man who was supposed to deliver it died late in the night. We had received a message letting us know of the coplication. The snow was falling lightly, the two moons in the sky larger than usual, my father called them a harvest moon. _

_They made it to Markarth late and rented a room at the inn. Both tired from the long trek, they didn't bother sitting around the fire, instead they went straight to their room. _

_The next morning his father met up with a man so we could collect our wares. He stay near, ignoring the conversation, it didn't pertain to him as it was. His ears perked up when he heard mention of a cave with a pack of wolves in it. _

"_My son is leaving to take care of it, you should have your son join him. I'll cut a hundred septims off the price," the other man stated. _

"_Done, Jorik meet his son Argis outside," my father ordered. _

_Self-consciously I touched the scar on my face and gave my father a worried look. "You'll do fine boy," his father reassured. My gut had told me not to go, but my father had told me I had to. _

_Argis was a large young man, a few years old than me, not as large as me, or as tall, but for most Nords he was considered large. He wore neatly cut blond hair with crystal blue eye, of a true nord. He held a shield in one hand and a sword strapped to his waist. His steel armor was well worn, easily enough to tell it had seen some battles._

_It took us a few hours to get to the cave. We both hesitated when we heard the howls. "Are you ready?" Argis has asked, his voice was deeper and burly. _

"_Yeah, just say away from my right side," I warned him. I watched as he nodded and looked curiously at my blind eye and the large scar that accompanied it. _

"_What happened?" Argis has asked. I sighed, not wanting to talk about it, but I would answer his question, he was the son of the person we bought our wares from. _

"_Balgruuf and myself were exploring a cave, a sword was going for him and I blocked it. The bandit turned his attention towards me, but Balgruuf was still in danger from another bandit I didn't see. The as I defended Balgruuf the first bandit sliced my face before I took his life." I told him. _

"_Why not let the man fight for himself?" Argis asked with a shake of his head. _

"_Because he's the son of the Jarl of Whiterun," I answered with a shrug. I smirked as his eyes widened but he asked no more questions which suited me just fine. _

_The first section had only two wolves in it, we moved further into the cave and found a lot more. More than we had been expecting. Argis took out five and I took out four. The last one was where everything went wrong. I went to jab, but Argis had tried to block me from getting bitten and my knife sliced down his face. I moved quickly stanching the blood, passing him a healing potion. It hadn't been strong enough to give him his sight or to heal the slice._

_ ~ooooooooooooooo~ _

_His father had been mad, but didn't blame me. Argis hasn't blamed me either but I blamed myself and that was enough. I had left Skyrim and went to Cyrodiil, away from everything I knew so I wouldn't be a burden to my father._

Jorik walked up the steps of Jorrvaskr, Farkas was waiting for him outside. "Have any missions?" Jorik asked quietly.

"Yeah, have someone around Whiterun that needs to be taught a lesson," Farkas murmured passing over the details. Jorik glanced at it and nodded his head.

It hadn't taken long to find the man and wasn't surprised to find out this man had stole something. Jorik found Brenuim in the market place. He shook his head. "So what did you steal this time?" Jorik asked with a smirk.

"Don't know what you are talking about," Brenuim snapped.

"Yeah I just bet you don't. Well I'm going to make sure you remember the next time you decide to steal something – don't." Jorik just finished his warning when Brenuim right fist caught him in the face.

Jorik snarled and swung out hitting in the stomach and quickly following through with a right hook to his jaw. He was surprised the man dropped holding out his arm so quickly. Jorik backed away giving the man a moment. He glanced around at the market and watched as everyone grinned. He wondered how many this guy had stole off of it.

~ooooooooooooooo~

He walked back in Jorrvaskr, Farkas was waiting for him at the entryway. "Finished, Brenuim probably won't try stealing again, but I wouldn't hold my breath on that," Jorik told him with a smirk.

"Have another mission. This one is in Markarth," Farkas stated handing him the mission details. Jorik's brow lowered into a scowl, the one town he wanted to avoid he now had to go to.

"Any others?" Jorik asked hopefully.

"Not until you prove your worth," Farkas told him. "Is there a problem?"

"We will see won't we," Jorik muttered with a shake of his head as he left Jorrvaskr. He wasn't going to leave right away, first he wanted to collect Lydia and restock.

~ooooooooooo~

Lydia glanced up sharply, her sword drawn when the front door slammed. The sound vibrated through the house. She walked downstairs, ready for anything. She stopped dead when she saw Jorik. His face was contoured in anger as he paced agitatedly.

"Lydia!" Jorik bellowed.

Lydia walked the rest of the way down the stairs, "Yes my Thane," she murmured, not wanting to set him off any more than he was.

"Make sure you are packed for a long trip," Jorik ordered as he started grabbing potions and stuffing them in his pack. He went to the cabinet and grabbed the salted meat. He vaguely heard Lydia moving quickly behind him packing her own bag.

He turned slowly and glanced at his housecarl, "We leave first thing in the morning," he stated as he headed out of the house. He needed to speak with Kodlak before heading. This mission was going to take long than he thought, he needed to work out his past before he left Markarth.

~ooooooooooo~

Jorik found Kodlak in his room, "Jorik what can I do for you," Kodlak murmured.

"I have a mission to head to Markarth, I'll be gone for a bit," Jorik stated firmly.

Kodlak sighed, he was surprised Farkas had given Jorik this mission. It was a good thing but he could see Jorik didn't agree. "Take as long as needed," Kodlak said with a nod of reassurance.

A weight felt like it had been lifted off of Jorik's shoulder. With a relieved sigh he walked out of the room. "Everything alright?" Vilkas asked.

"Yes, no, my past is coming up," Jorik told him as he took a seat on the bench.

"Heading to Markarth?" Vilkas asked as he took a seat next to him.

"Yeah, Farkas gave me a mission that needs to be done there. Not sure how long I'll be gone," Jorik told him. He smirked, this was the first time he actually had time to sit and talk to anyone here. He made a promise when he got back he would make more time.

"You know the family never blamed you," Vilkas told him quietly.

Jorik looked at him sharply, "You father told Kodlak and myself what happened a few months after you left," Vilkas explained.

"Hmm, so I take it he told you why I left?" Jorik asked icily.

"No, he didn't," Vilkas told him quietly before rising to his feet. Jorik looked up at the nord and saw the confusion before he walked away. He sighed in relief that no one knew why he left.

Jorik scowled disgustedly at himself and stormed out of Jorrvaskr. He silently berated himself for a milk drinker. He had ran when he was a lad and knew it. Vilkas said things were good, but he wouldn't believe it until he saw for himself.

~ooooooooooooo~

Grabbing the family heirloom was easy enough. There had only been a few mercenaries, he could have done the mission easily enough on his own.

Lydia watched as her Thane scanned the streets looking for something. She was pretty sure who it was, but wasn't going to comment yet. It wasn't her place and she figured he needed to put his past to rest. She was still surprised that they were here when he said he needed to avoid this city.

She smirked as her Thane walked to the Silverblood inn. She wondered if she would have to drag him back to his bed this time too.

Jorik walked into the busy inn and ordered two rooms. He thought about staying in his room and ignoring everything until they leave on their next mission. He had picked up a few in town, but he was wary of doing missions here since he received a note. The note told him to go to the temple of Talos, which he planned on avoiding. With all the Thalmor in Skyrim it would be stupid to go to the temple.

He glanced at Lydia to find her already at a table waiting for him. Quickly he ordered food and mead for the both of them.

"My Thane?" Lydia asked with concern as he glanced around once more.

"Don't worry about it Lydia," Jorik muttered. Relief swept through him when he saw no one he recognized. He just hoped it stayed that way.

Lydia rolled her eyes, she didn't care her Thane saw it. How was she supposed to protect him when she didn't know where the danger was coming from? So she decided to keep an eye on everyone and think them all a danger to her Thane.

She scanned the room once more. Her eyes landing on a stranger in the corner, cloaked in shadow. He wasn't hiding, but keeping away from all the patrons. She could see he was a large nord, and was watching her Thane intently.

Lydia knew who she had to watch now. She sipped her mead and glanced at Jorik, he didn't seem to notice the man.

Lydia tensed as the man rose to his feet and walked over to their table.

"Jorik?" a burly voice asked.

Jorik whipped around startled. His eyes met the others and his shoulders slump. His father told him once you can't run from your past. Told him that just as he was leaving to Cyrodiil. Now his past was staring right at him.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Jorik swallowed nervously, unsure what the man wanted. He didn't see rage, or anger, actually he saw no emotions in the man's eyes. It made him very nervous not knowing what Argis was thinking.

"My Thane is that…?" Lydia voice trailed off, when Jorik head snapped towards her with a warning look.

"You're a Thane now?" Argis asked with a raised brow, surprise clear in his voice.

"A Thane of Whiterun. It was Jarl Balgruuf's idea to give me the title," Jorik answered quietly.

Argis turned his attention to the woman sitting across from Jorik. She was alert, ready to protect her Thane in a moment's notice. He noticed her hand hovering near her sword as she watched him carefully. He glanced at Jorik and back to the woman, "Give us a few minutes," Argis requested, but he already knew the answer. No housecarl would leave their Thane's side, not when they thought there was danger near. And he could see this woman thought he was a danger. He didn't blame her, it wasn't as if he was a small man, and with the scars he carried people knew he was a fighter.

"No," Lydia stated, not budging an inch from her spot. She glared at the man audacity in asking her to leave. She glanced at her Thane and noticed sadness in his eyes. He wasn't scared, but whatever was going on bothered him greatly.

"Lydia, give us a few minutes," Jorik murmured tiredly. He heard her sigh, and noticed the worried look but he ignored it all. He sat there rigidly as he listened to her retreating steps. Once he knew she was away from them he turned his attention to Argis. The moment he had been dreading had come. He wondered what was to happen now.

Argis took the seat Lydia had sat in. He watched the man across from him and could see defeat in his eyes. The past sat in between them, making this meeting awkward and tense. He wondered what Jorik was thinking, what he was expecting. From the looks of it, nothing good. The larger man sat there tense, waiting for a blow or something worse.

The silence was tense, and Argis decided to fill it. He knew if he didn't start the conversation, then nothing would be said. "After you left, my father had me working for your father for a time," Argis commented. "After a year of working for your father I went back to my own family and found them dead," Argis stated. Anger burned through him for a moment, but long ago he had forgiven Jorik. Jorik's father had told him many times why the man left. How the man sitting across from him never forgave himself for the loss of his eye. Most would still be angry, but he remembered the look on Jorik's face when the injury happened. He remembered how quickly Jorik reacted to fix the injury. He remembered the tormented look on the young man's face.

He couldn't be angry, not with all he remembered and he could see that Jorik still hadn't forgiven himself.

"I didn't know," Jorik answered softly, with his head bowed. He would take whatever anger this man wished to dish out. He deserved no less.

"Haven't you talked with your father yet?" Argis asked belligerently, his eyes narrowing. He was surprised that Jorik hadn't spoken with his father.

"No. Instead I watched him die," Jorik answered, raising his eye to meet a crystal blue eye.

"What?" Argis was startled, he hadn't heard Aden died. He didn't even know Jorik had come back until he stepped into the inn.

"The dragon attack on Helgen took their lives. Dad died just before they place my head on the block," Jorik told him.

Argis nodded, "Your father told us why you left," he muttered shaking his head in annoyance.

"You're proof that I was a danger. Instead of training with people I knew, I left to learn elsewhere," Jorik stated with a sigh. He really did want this talk. He just wanted to be done so he could forget all the mistakes he had done in his life. From the sound of it, him leaving caused a lot of problem.

Argis stayed silent, he didn't know what to say to that. It was true, because of Jorik he lost his sight in one eye. But from what he knew of the lad back then he didn't strike him as someone who ran. Argis knew more was going on, nothing added up.

"Why were your heading for the headman block?" Argis asked. It bothered him slightly that Aden's son might be a criminal.

"For crossing the border," Jorik bit out. His voice cold, a warning not to ask anymore.

Argis stayed silent, with the rebellion going on it didn't surprise him. What did surprise him was Jorik's attitude. He had heard many stories, from different people while he was a lad, but none of those stories match the man sitting here.

He gave a sharp nod and rose to his feet, "I need to head back to the Jarl," Argis said and walked away with a glance over his shoulder.

~ooooooooooooo~

Lydia moved back to her Thane's table and took a seat. She hadn't been that far away, but she worried for her Thane now.

"We'll sleep here the night and head back to Whiterun in the morning," Jorik ordered and stormed from the table. He made his way to his room slamming the door in the process. His frustration was at an all-time high. He paced the small room trying to keep control of himself. He knew if he didn't control his emotions…

He felt it, a pressure in his chest wanting release. The shout was just on the tip of his tongue ready to fly from his mouth. He sat heavily on the bed covering his face with his hands, taking deep easy breaths.

"Jorik," Lydia called through the door. Hesitantly she opened the door and saw her Thane staring at the door with black eyes. Quickly she stepped inside and closed the door waiting for him to get control.

"Jorik, you should take a walk outside of the city," she told him quietly. She backed away as he opened the door and left. Quickly she followed after him at a distance.

~oooooooooooo~

Jorik stepped outside of Markarth and kept walking. He felt the cold air on his skin and did nothing for him.

He walked over to the clearing near where the city lay and felt it. Chanting, a thrumming beat through his being. He glanced around for the wall, but saw nothing. The beat grew within him and a loud roar filled the skies.

Jorik looked up and met the eyes of a dragon hovering above him. FUS RO DAH he shouted and watched the dragon sway. He drew his bow, knocking an arrow and letting them fly one after another.

Lydia stay back shooting arrows as Jorik switched to his swords. Right now she thought her Thane insane. Though it wouldn't be the first time that thought came to her. Her Thane was once more fighting a dragon while talking to it in the draconic language. She didn't understand a word of it, but the dragon seemed to and wasn't happy. The really odd thing, it wasn't his voice, her Thane had a deep smooth voice, one of someone who was educated. This voice held power, someone who knew they couldn't be defeated.

She gasped when another figure joined the fighting. Her eyes widened when she saw it was the man from earlier. They were both using bows while Jorik fought up close. The other guards were fighting too, but they were using iron arrows. Iron barely worked on dragons other than piss them off.

"Why is his eyes black?" Argis asked as he watched Jorik.

"That is for him to explain," Lydia stated, not once stopping to shooting arrows at the dragons. She sighed in relief as the dragon fell. Quickly she moved to Jorik's side ready to catch him when he collapsed.

Jorik felt like his body was being ripped apart and being remade as the soul entered him. He hated taking the soul. He groaned and collapsed to one knee as the soul flood him, filling him beyond endurance. He felt like his mind was about to explode. One good thing, the chanting was gone and his body didn't feel like something calling to it anymore.

He hissed as Lydia helped him to his feet. "I'm heading to the inn," he muttered.

"What was that?" Another voice asked. Jorik looked up sharply and found Argis standing there looking at him curiously.

"I'm dragonborn," Jorik told him. He took a step, his worst mistake. Blackness ate his vision and the last thing he remembers was Lydia's annoyed voice.

"What the fuck!" Argis jumped quickly and caught the limp body from falling to the ground. "What the hell happened?"

"He moved before he should have," Lydia muttered with annoyed scowl.

Argis shrugged and hoisted the limp body over his shoulder. It was a struggle, Jorik was larger than him by a little. He followed the housecarl to their room at the inn. "I need to report this to the Jarl." He muttered and left.

~oooooooooooooooo~

"What do you mean the dragonborn is in my city and passed out?!" The Jarl Igmund shouted at Argis.

"We fought a dragon outside of the city," Argis explained.

"Why isn't a priestess looking him over?" Jarl Igmund growled his annoyance. Argis may be his best fighter, but he was costing him more than he was willing to pay for one person. In a way he wished Argis wasn't so good, then he could keep him in his military, but with his aptitude with fighting, the price he should be paying for Argis was too much. Pretty soon he would have to replace Argis. But first he would have to get rid of the Nord. There was only one mission he knew of that would do the job. No one had survived getting the shield of his father yet. In a bit, after the dragonborn left and things settled down he would send Argis out to retrieve the shield.

"His housecarl said there was no need," Argis answered, bowing his head respectfully.

Igmund hissed "Dismissed, but if the dragonborn dies…" his warning was clear.

Argis rushed out of the room and headed to the inn where the dragonborn was. He was shocked that Jorik was the dragonborn.

The inn was bustling, he didn't see the housecarl or dragonborn anywhere. "What room is Jorik's?" Argis asked.

"To the right," the bartender answered with a nod.

Argis knocked on the door, and was surprised that it was Jorik that answered. "Something I can do for you?" Jorik asked as he opened the door wider to allow the man in.

Jorik watched as he took a seat on one of the chairs. He was surprised seeing him here again. Lydia had told him what happened earlier, and wondered if it had to do with that.

"Jarl Igmund, wanted me to make sure that you were fine," Argis answered with a scowl.

"You can tell him that I survived," Jorik said with a slight chuckle. _Yep it was definitely time to leave this place,_ he thought to himself.

~ooooooooo~

A week later Jorik walked into Jorrvaskr, Farkas was at the table eating with everyone else. "Finished the mission," Jorik told him as he took a seat and grabbed some food.

"Good, Skjor wanted to see you," Farkas told him.

"You know what he wants?"

"It's your time boy, Farkas will be your shield brother on this mission. A scholar stopped by and told us where one of the fragments were," Skjor explained from across the table.

"We'll leave in the morning," Jorik stated.

"Jorik, follow me," Vilkas ordered. Jorik looked at him curious and with a shrug followed him down to his room. "How did…"

Jorik cut him off abruptly, "Things are fine. I've talk to Argis," Jorik said, his eyes warning not to push further.

"What about…"

"Vilkas, leave it!" Jorik snapped and stormed out of Jorrvaskr.

"No, I'm not going to leave it," Vilkas snapped, following the nord. He stopped Jorik, with a rough hand on his shoulder. He could feel the tension coming off of him in waves.

He didn't want to see Jorik running off again, they needed him here. Things were running smoothly now that they had a worthy fighter. The requests that they had been backed up on were getting done. He knew it was mostly to do with Jorik.

"We talked, thing are settled… I guess. He doesn't want me dead, so that is good news," Jorik answered with a shrug.

"What else?" Vilkas asked, with an intent look.

"Why? Why do you want to know?" Jorik asked, frustration thick in his voice.

"The last time you ran it affected your family," Vilkas told him.

Jorik sighed, he was hearing a lot of that. First his family, then Argis, and now Vilkas. He didn't know how his leaving affected him or anyone here, and he didn't want to know. Right now, it was too much. He looked up at the mountain where the Greybeards lived and made his decision, he would do what he is supposed to be doing and quit dwelling on everything else.

It was time as far as he was concerned.


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry this took so long. Was going to post it last night, but called in for a night shift. Thankfully those are done now. There will be another chapter tomorrow once I've caught up on sleep. **

**Hope to hear from you all, leave a review and let me know what you think. **

Jorik sat at the table in his house. Lydia was watching, waiting for orders. Not a day ago Jorik had said they were going to continue on with the Greybeards, but nothing had happened since then. She wondered what was stopping him now.

"My Thane, is everything alright?" Lydia asked uncertainly.

"Yes, just debating whether…" Jorik trailed off. With a sigh he left his seat and headed out the door. His emotions were in turmoil, his plan of avoiding Balgruuf plagued him. Balgruuf was a good friend and he just left the man, running once more as he did before.

He didn't bother greeting people as he should, he had a mission, something that needed to be done and couldn't wait. Balgruuf deserved at least that much from him.

He stood in front of the double doors leading into the castle and took a fortifying breath. His hands were shaking at his side, and he clenched his hands into fist swearing silent that his emotions were visiable to everyone. With a scowl he ignored the curious look of the guards when he opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit hall.

"Thane Jorik, is there something you need?" One of the guards asked quietly, so his voice didn't echo through the hall.

"I'm here to see Balgruuf," Jorik answered quietly. He noticed the guards shifting nervously as they glanced between each other. "What?"

"The Jarl has been in a mood of late, you may not be able to speak with him," one of the guards mumbled quickly glancing towards the throne to make sure he hadn't been overheard.

Jorik nodded and headed to the throne where Balgruuf sat. He swallowed nervously as angry, sky blue eyes turned to him. What surprised him was beneath the anger there was sadness, and pain. He knew without asking that he was caused those emotions that haunted those blue eyes.

"Jorik," Balgruuf greeted. His voice hard, foreboding, not something people were used to hearing from their Jarl.

"Can I have a few moments of your time?" Jorik asked, meeting those angry eyes with his pleading ones.

Balgruuf sat back on his throne. A part of him was elated that Jorik was here speaking with him, but mostly he was still pissed. His one true friend had left him, abandoned him. The one person he could be himself with had stopped talking with him, now stood before him. He didn't know what to think. He didn't believe for a moment that Jorik was here for his benefit, not after the way he left last time.

He still hurt, but he would never admit it or show it. He was a nord and he wasn't about to show that Jorik absence affected him. Plus he was the Jarl of Whiterun, he didn't have the luxury of allowing his emotions rule him. That was why he looked forward to Jorik's visits, with him there were no masks, no false platitudes rank and positions hadn't mattered.

"What do you want Jorik?" Balgruuf asked sharply.

"To apologize… and to explain," Jorik answered, his voice barely over a whisper that Balgruuf had to strain to hear him. Balgruuf nodded and led the way to his private rooms where they wouldn't have to worry about anyone listening in.

He moved over to one of the chair that made up a lounge area and sat down as he watched Jorik pace agitatedly. Balgruuf tried to relax and wait patiently for Jorik to start explaining but the more the younger nord paced the higher his agitation grew. He was about to snap at Jorik but was stopped when he started speaking.

"Once more, I've run. The first time was years ago when I left Skyrim and then again with you. I thought it would be better if I left both times, but I know now it was wrong," Jorik muttered running his hand through his hair.

"Why did you run those many years ago?" Balgruuf asked curiously.

"My father and I went to Markarth and there was an accident. A lad named Argis lost his eye due to me. I knew then that I wasn't safe so I left to train in fighting elsewhere," Jorik answered with a shrug.

"And why did you run this time?" Balgruuf asked, not sure if he wanted to hear what the man had to say. It had hurt when Jorik left, more than expected and more than he was ready for.

"When I took that dragon soul a while back, something changed. I am Dovahkiin, I have a soul of the dov, and that is meant quite literally. With each dragon soul I take its get worse. I can feel each one of them, the power they held, the knowledge they each held. I can feel it all. When angered, or many other reasons I lose control and am dangerous. I didn't want you in danger, not from me," Jorik muttered, focusing hard on his feet. He couldn't meet Balgruuf's eyes. His emotions were too raw, to close to the surface.

"Why are you telling me this?" Balgruuf asked.

"That's not important right now," Jorik hedged, praying Balgruuf would take the hint. When he saw the Jarl's eyes narrowed he worried the man would push. That was one conversation he wasn't ready to have, no yet.

Balgruuf stared at him thoughtfully. He was tempted to push for an answer, but he wasn't even sure he wanted to know what Jorik was hiding.

Jorik stood there awkwardly, not sure what to say. He glanced around, searching for anything to give him a hint on to what to say next. He glanced at Balgruuf but there was no help there. He did noticed the anger was gone, but in its place was confusion. Jorik sighed, "I should be leaving," he muttered.

Balgruuf watched him walk to the door, "Jorik, would you sup with me tonight?" He asked, keeping his voice firm, hiding behind a stoic mask. He knew if he didn't hide, his voice would have cracked and Jorik would know how uncertain he was. That was the last thing he wanted, or needed right now.

"Yes, I'll be here," Jorik answered with a small smile. Balgruuf watched his one green eye, lighten and some of the regret left them.

Balgruuf watched him leave with a small smile and felt a weight lift off his shoulders.

~oooooooooooooo~

Lydia smirked while Jorik went through his clothes. She watched the mound build up on his bed. She wasn't sure what happened when he left but whatever it was she was happy for it. "My Thane what are you looking for?"

"Something suitable to wear?" Jorik muttered.

"Suitable to wear for what?" Lydia asked, rolling her at her Thane's back.

"Dinner at the castle," Jork grumbled as he tossed another set of clothing onto the pile. Most of them were things he took off dead bodies, or stole, there was nothing here that he bought. He shook his head and went to his nightstand. "Go see if Belethor has anything suitable to wear. Don't bother haggling with the twit," Jorik muttered.

"He better not hit on me again," Lydia growled, a dark scowl lighting her face.

"Remind him who you are housecarl to. I highly doubt he wants to piss me off after my last talk to him," Jorik told her with a smirk.

Lydia chuckled, her mood lightening when she remembered that talk. Jorik's fist to Belethor face when he had grabbed her ass the last time.

Jorik grabbed the clothes off of his bed and scowled at them. He should have cleaned out his dresser long ago, but hadn't even thought about it. Now he was regretting it. He tossed them into a pile in the corner of his room, later he would burn them, when he left town once more.

He sneered as he thought about his newest mission awaiting him. He was to infiltrate the Thalmor embassy, in a way he couldn't wait, but he was also leery. If he got caught there was no way he was going to allow them to torture him. He knew the political repercussions if he killed even one of them.

He didn't want to do this mission, but knew he had to. It pissed him off to no end.

He was broken out of his thoughts when he heard the door open. His first thought it was Lydia but the steps were to heavy. He grabbed his sword, and walked slowly to the top of the stairs. His eyes narrowed when he watched the man check out the blades he had on display. He waited for the man to take one of the blade but he didn't. Instead he moved to one of the chairs, Jorik could finally see his face. His eyes widened when he saw Balgruuf seated there.

"What brings you here?" Jorik asked as he walked down the stairs, the sword now loosely held in his hand. He placed the sword next to the rack, taking a seat across from Balgruuf.

"I thought I should come tell you myself, but Lydia is in the jail for knocking Belethor out," Balgruuf said with an amused smile.

"So you came here personally to tell me this," Jorik muttered with an amused smirk.

"Not quite, there been a change of plans. We will have to move supper to tomorrow night, I have business to take care of tonight," Balgruuf muttered, rubbing a tired hand over his face.

"Anything you need help with?" Jorik asked.

"Maybe, I don't know yet. A farm is coming in with complaints about a cave near here filled with bandits. I've sent a few men out and they found nothing. So this farmer is coming back with proof," Balgruuf answered.

"If he has proof or can lead me to this cave. I can take care of it, though there is a price in it," Jorik said with a grin.

"What's the price?" Balgruuf asked with narrowed eyes.

"Don't go to the gather at the embassy," Jorik stated seriously.

"Why?"

"it won't be safe and leave it at that," Jorik warned and waited for the barrage of questions.

"Done, didn't want to go as it was," Balgruuf said with a grin. "Meet me up at the castle in an hour or so, the farmer should be there by then."

Jorik watched him walk to the door, "Oh, Balgruuf let my housecarl go," Jorik said.

"Was planning on it. I am surprised she is not here yet," Balgruuf muttered, looking at the door curiously. He walked out and stepped back in surprised. Lydia was standing guard in front of the door, her blade still sheathed but the warning in her eyes was clear to anyone coming close to the house.

Lydia glanced over her shoulder and noticed the Jarl standing there. She looked at her Thane and caught the subtle nod. She motioned the Jarl to follow her, a grin splitting her face when she caught her Thane's grin.

It looks like she had money to collect for Irileth, she couldn't wait.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Jorik dug into the boar roast, it had been a long while since he had one cooked this good. The last time was when his mother was alive. He glanced at Balgruuf and noticed him eating at a slower pace with an amused look. He stopped eating for a moment, "Sorry, been awhile since I had cooking this good. It reminds me of when my mother was alive," Jorik murmured.

Balgruuf chuckled with amusement. He nodded slowly, not sure what to say. What surprised him was Jorik's faint blush. He didn't think there was much that would make the young nord blush. "Better save room for desert, it will be coming soon," Balgruuf warned.

"There is more to come?" Jorik stated incredulously. He shook his head, the amount of food that was here could have fed the poor he had seen around Whiterun and other holds. Yet here was Balgruuf like other Jarls eating enough to feed them and wasting the rest. He was very tempted to speak his mind, but decided to hold his tongue for now. Later, when the air was clear between them, then he would say something.

"You look troubled," Balgruuf murmured.

"Nothing to be concerned about," Jorik muttered, keeping his face blank.

Balgruuf debated to push, but decided not. He could feel the tension and knew things weren't quite right between them. He wondered if it ever would be. He caught the maid's eye and motioned her to clear the table.

"I'll be making more bread for the servants my Jarl," the maid murmured as she cleared their plates.

"What was that all about?" Jorik asked.

"What is left over, usually the servants eat it," Balgruuf explained and saw surprised. He scowled that Jorik thought he would be as shallow to allow food go to waste. He didn't bother saying anything, but was very tempted to storm at the man.

Jorik nodded, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "I think I've had enough," he muttered as he moved his seat back. "I should head home and get some rest if I am to accompany the farmer in the morning."

Balgruuf watched the door closed behind Jorik. He snarled, slamming his fist down on the table. His eyes snapped to the door when it opened once more. "LEAVE!" he shouted. He ran an agitated hand through his hair, wondering how tonight had gone so wrong. The both of them had been so distant; it was like two strangers eating together. They had barely spoken, or looked at each other, before things had changed there was banter, laughter, late nights of talking, now it was all gone. His stomach turned at the thought, and with a sad sigh he sat heavily on his bed, head buried in his hands.

He needed to figure this all out. He had to do something, what he wasn't sure.

~ooooooooooooo~

Jorik walked into the Banned Mare, he found the farmer sitting by the fire. "You, with me!" he ordered, his voice harsh, cold that everyone looked at him in surprise.

The farmer rose from his chair nervously, he didn't feel safe going with this man at the moment. Slowly he followed the man outside, his hands shaking at his side. He led the way to the gates, glancing over his shoulder constantly. The large man followed closely, a dark scowl on his face.

The farmer knew this large man was a friend of the Jarl, but even that didn't help him feel safe. The large nord's blind eye shone eerily in the moonlight. The nord's good eye was filled with anger and he prayed to the eight that anger wasn't turned his way. "We should almost be there," the farmer muttered nervously.

"When we get there, you disappear," the man growled. _He didn't have to tell him twice_, the farmer thought and then shook his head at that stupid thought. It was too dangerous to be on his own during the night. He wouldn't survive more than an hour.

"What about wolves and such? I am a farmer, not a fighter," The farmer muttered. He really wanted to listen to the man and leave, but he knew it would be a folly.

"Stay here, do not enter that cave," the large man muttered.

The farmer watched him enter the cave. He hoped those mercenaries were there this time and not hiding as they did the last time some searched.

The farmer flinched when he heard the first scream. He cringed when he heard the alarm. He expected people to come running out of the cave, but no one showed yet. His blood stilled when he heard a shout, like what the greybeards do. He couldn't believe what he heard. The ground had trembled beneath his feet, his whole body was shaking in fear.

He stayed rooted in the spot, wanting to run screaming, but couldn't. He didn't want to be there, he wanted to be where it was safe, but he couldn't move his body wasn't listening.

The farmer's heart stopped when he heard footsteps nearing the mouth of the cave. His stomach turned and revolted when he saw the man. The mead and supper he had just finished, ended up on the ground as he collapsed to his knees. He had seen blood before, he has had his own hands covered in the stuff, but this man wasn't just covered in it. It was like he just bathed in it.

What scared him more was the nord's eyes were black with flecks of gold in them. He had never seen anything like and Prayed to all deity he never did again. "Is it done?" he squeaked out through the fear wracking his body.

Jorik faintly heard him, but he smelt the fear. He could feel the souls pressing against him, enjoying the man's fear. Wanting to bath in the fear of him, he could feel all those souls calling out enticingly for him to scare the man more.

"Go see the Jarl, tell him the cave is cleared," Jorik ordered. He grit his teeth against the pressing souls, hating the feel of it. He needed freedom right now, he couldn't head back to the city.

He watched the man run off towards Whiterun. He headed off in the opposite direction, well away from Whiterun and its people. It was too much of a temptation right now just to scare those people. And not just a short thrill, but something that would have them shaking, crying out in fear.

He was vaguely aware of night turning to day. He wasn't even sure where he was heading to, or where he was for that matter. It didn't really matter to him right now. He could feel that other part of him, feel the dragon blood coursing through him. The elation he felt as he defeated his enemies with ease.

The Greybeards said that it was a part of him, but it didn't feel like that. With each soul he took, the stronger the feeling was. Sometimes it was almost like he didn't belong in this body anymore.

Jorik looked up at the sky and saw a dragon flying high in the clouds. He smiled slightly, wishing that it could be him flying instead. He watched as it seamlessly glided through the air. Its scales simmering as the sunlight reflected off them.

With a wistful sigh he turned his attention to ahead of him. His eyes narrowed when he saw someone large moving in the distance. He wasn't sure if this man was friend or foe. He unsheathed his sword and headed towards the man, his body ready for a fight.

His eyes widened when the man faced him with his own sword drawn, but slowly re-sheathed it. He couldn't believe who he was looking at. He hadn't expected to see this nord this soon. "Argis, what are you doing out here?" he asked, uncertainty showing in his voice.

"The Jarl wants me to retrieve his shield that was lost, when Markarth was lost the first time," Argis explained.

"He sent you alone?" Jorik asked incredulously.

"Aye, he has hopes that I do not return. None he has sent has returned, even the squad he sent weeks ago," Argis stated, his voice filled with anger.

"Well then, we'll just have to screw his plans. I'm coming with you." Jorik state, his voice firm, showing he wasn't about to take no for an answer.

"I can't risk the dragonborn. That would be idiotic," Argis hissed.

"You don't have a choice," Jorik snapped. "Lead the way."

Argis sighed and turned his back on the stubborn nord to lead the way. He prayed to the eight that this mission didn't end up killing the dragonborn. Skyrim needed this man more so now, than ever.


	12. Chapter 12

**So I have had a few more favorites and that is awesome. Thank you guys. Now please I am hoping more people review, please. I would really like know what you think. **

They came upon some ruins overrun with Foresworn. Jorik eyes widened as he saw this, "and they were going to send you on your own?" he asked incredulously.

Argis didn't both answering, just gave him an annoyed look for asking the obvious.

He glanced once more at Jorik to make sure the nord stayed behind him, though he doubted that would happen. With a desolate sigh he entered the ruins, Jorik close behind him.

The first area was easy enough, a few foresworn in a small area. He was surprised Jorik was holding his own and protecting his back. It made him feel a little better that he might not get the dragonborn killed.

Each area they took slowly, taking out as many Forsworn from a distance. Thought that came rushing at them Argis took out making sure Jorik was behind him.

They both took a minute to catch their breath in the room they just cleared out. "We should be coming up to the shield soon," Argis muttered.

"Ha, not even close. We haven't even reached Hag's End we are still in the Deepwood redoubt." Jorik grimaced.

The deeper they went in the more Forsworn there was. Jorik had been expecting it. His arm was starting to tire, and he could see that Argis was tiring as well. They couldn't let their fatigue to slow them, it was too dangerous.

Jorik sighed with relief when they came to the doors for Hag's end. He prayed no other missions took him here. Ever.

~oooooooooo~

Jorik and Argis collapsed to the ground when they finished the mission. Making their way out had been just as brutal. All the traps they hadn't triggered were set off on the way out. "In the morning we'll return the shield," Jorik grumbled as he stared up at the starry sky.

"We'll camp here for the night and head early morning," Argis suggested.

They both lay there not bothering to set up a camp for the night. Both were bone weary. Jorik watched Argis' eyes fluttered close and his soon followed.

~oooooooooo~

_Bright light surrounded him. "You can rise," a voice said calmly. _

_Jorik glanced around, but saw no one. He looked at where he was and knew the place from other dreams. "Who's there?" he yelled, reaching for the word at his hip. _

"_Someone who has been watching for a long while now," the voice murmured. "You won't need that here." Jorik gasped as his sword disappeared. He glanced around wildly, trying to find who was talking to him. _

"_What do you want?" He yelled. _

"_There is no need to yell," the voice said with amusement. _

"_Fine. What do you want?" Jorik asked more calmly. _

"_The question is what do you want Dovahkiin?" _

"_What do you mean?" Jorik scowled trying to figure out what was going on. _

"_You've been born with a gift, yet you fear it. Why is that?" _

"_That gift takes over, makes me want to harm people that never deserved it," Jorik answered. _

"_A dragon's soul in a mortal body, it is not easy, but something you must embrace to win this fight," the voice stated. _

"_If I embrace it, then I lose what humanity I have," Jorik whispered. _

"_Do you? Or do you become what you meant to be?" the voice asked. _

"_I don't know…"_

"_Alduin gains power as must you." _

"_I know…" Jorik sat heavily on the ground, staring off into the bright emptiness, giving up trying to find the person speaking to him. "But I am one man he tries not to allow the blood of the dragon to rule him. Each soul I take it becomes harder. I will not lose myself to this." _

"_Everything happens for a reason, remember this," the voice said. Jorik eyes widened as a figure started showing in the emptiness. His heart raced, something told him he should know this figure, but he didn't. He rose to his feet, taking a step towards the barely seen figure. _

"_Aye it does," Jorik murmured. His mouth dropped as the figure came into full view, his stomach did a flip and a gasp left him. _

_Jorik opened his mouth to greet the figure…_

He woke on a cold ground, his armor damp from the frost around them. Argis sat by a fire cooking some food. "Are you alright?" Argis asked him. He wasn't sure how to answer that question. He wasn't sure if what and who he saw had been real or a figment of his imagination.

"Yeah, fine," Jorik muttered, moving closer to the fire. "We should head soon."

Argis glanced at him worriedly before nodding. He gathered his pack, slinging the shield across his back. He didn't look at Jorik as they got ready but thought of the words Jorik had spoken out loud. It hadn't been in the common language, but a different language. He hadn't understood what it meant, but he had known Jorik had been agitated. "You sure you don't need a few minutes?"

"Yeah I am sure," Jorik muttered, before taking lead and heading towards Markarth.

~ooooooooooooooo~

Jorik stood beside Argis as they handed over the shield. He allowed Argis to do the talking. His idea had been for him to disappear, but Argis had wanted him to take his due credit. He could tell by the scowl on the Jarl's face that he wasn't happy.

Jorik waited for the words that dismissed them, then he planned on talking with Argis to find out why the Jarl wanted him out of the way. It made no sense, Argis was an excellent fighter, so why would the Jarl not want him around.

"Dismissed," Jorik was surprised it had been so bluntly given. With a nod of his head he left, with Argis close by his side. They went back to the Silverblood inn.

They both ordered mead and food. "What does the Jarl have against you?" Jorik asked, staring intently at the man sitting across from him.

"I am not sure. Maybe it's the amount of money he needs to spend to keep me," Argis muttered, running an agitated hand through his hair. He knew as soon as Jorik left, something was going to happen, he knew this, but he wasn't going to tell him. There would be nothing Jorik could do.

Jorik leaned back in his chair smirking as the tavern grew rowdy. Argis had went back to the barracks now he was by himself. What happened earlier with the Jarl bothered him, though it shouldn't. He barely knew Argis, but he owed the nord a lot especially after taking his eye. With a sigh he left his table and walked up to the bartender. "Paying my tab, going to head out shortly. But could you do my a favor?" Jorik asked, laying another sack of coins on the table. He met the man's eyes and hoped he would take the bribe.

"Sure what ya need?" the bartender asked.

"The man I was with earlier – if any information pertaining to him comes up over the next little while send a messenger to Whiterun to find me," Jorik asked.

"Sure, you expecting trouble?" the man asked with a curious look.

"Yeah, my gut tells me trouble is going to happen and I owe the guy," Jorik stated.

"Sure, I'll keep an ear out." Jorik nodded, relief flowing through him as he heard these words. He didn't need to worry now.

~oooooooooo~

Jarl Igmund sat back in his throne, a thoughtful look on his face beneath the scowl. Argis had placed the dragonborns life in danger once more. He shook his head, Argis wasn't supposed to make it back, but he did with the dragonborn in tow.

His first thought was to put this Dragonborn as a thane in his city and he was still thinking this, but Argis was the more important at the moment. The Dragonborn could be dealt with later. It would be a good political move having the dragonborn as thane of the city.

Now as to Argis, he had come back alive, and placed the dragonborn's life in danger. There is only one thing he could see as good enough punishment. He couldn't send the man to the mine, Argis was too good of a soldier to get away with that. The other guards would bring chaos, but the dungeons would be different especially if he brought up the fact that Argis had placed the dragonborn in danger. Then after Argis' punishment and if he survived he could remove him from the guards. It worked well in his favor and would save Markarth more money. It was too bad Argis was so good at what he did, he was an exceptional fighter, and he was excellent at getting jobs done. He regretted doing what he had to, but he had no choice. Argis had to go.

Igmund turned to his steward, "Have Argis brought here." He ordered. Now he just needed to wait.


	13. Chapter 13

**So this chapter might seem rushed, but I wanted to get it out before I left on my vacation. I will be gone for a week or less, depends on a few things. So there will be no updates until I am back. **

**Thank you all for your reviews, I am so glad people are interested in this story. Hope to hear from you after this chapter. Please guys no flames. **

Argis stood before Jarl Igmund and waited, hoping that he had been called for another mission, and not what he was dread. His gut told him that there was trouble and he believed it.

Argis met the Jarl's eyes squarely not backing down from the harsh look. But that look made him worry more. "Argis the Bulwark for endangering the Dragonborn you are hereby to spend the next year of your life in the dungeon for your crime." The Jarl ordered. Argis hid his flinch, he should have guessed something like this would have happened.

Now Igmund would have wait to have him remove from Markarth's services. He could already see the scowls from the other guards and knew he couldn't push his luck more. The last thing he needed was an uprising, but he needed to plan. If his torturer did there job well there would be no need to plan and he can lay the blame on their feet, that way his men wouldn't rise against him.

With his head held high Argis was roughly pulled towards the dungeon. He wasn't sure which was worse, the mine or the dungeon. The torturer was in the dungeon and loved his work, whereas in the mine there was all sorts of other things that went on.

This time he couldn't hide his cringe when he saw the sneering grin on the head torturers face. He wondered how it was his life had turned so quickly.

~OOOOOOOOOOO~

Jorik chuckled as he sat with the rest of the other companions. Dinner had been a roasted deer and leak, with what seemed to be a unlimited supply of mead being handed around. He sighed contently as he leaned back in his chair. Things were starting to slow down once more, but he still needed to face Balgruuf. That bothered him, but it was something that needed to be done.

Another thing that bothered him but he was never going to mention it to anyone was his dreams. They had become eerier. A voice that he now knew who it belong to still spoke to him, but he didn't understand why.

Jorik barely paid attention when the door opened, he figured it was Athis since he had to fetch more firewood from outside. "I'm looking for a man name Jorik," a messenger announced.

"What do you want?" Jorik asked grumpily. He finally able to relax and one of them shows up.

"Got an urgent message for you from Markarth," the messenger stated. Jorik didn't remember getting out of his chair, nor did he remember tearing the message open. He glared at the hurried words, hissing when he read that Argis was in the Dungeon.

Jorik rushed to his house, not bothering to inform Lydia of what was happening. He grabbed his coin pouches, his enchanted swords and rushed back outside without his pack. He didn't plan on stopping so as far as he was concerned there was no need for it.

His first thought was to higher a carriage but they were robbed often so it wouldn't be faster. He tossed gold to stable master and mounted the horse. He didn't take it easy on the poor beast, he ran him into the ground every chance he got, until he reached Markarth's gate four days later.

He smirked as the guards hurriedly opened the gates for him in fear. He ran through the city all the way to the castle. More guards hurriedly opened the door for him, backing out of his way quickly.

Rage burned through him as he saw the Jarl sitting on his throne. "Where is Argis?" he demanded, not bothering with a respectful tone.

"He is where he belongs until his time is up," the Jarl answered passively, but inside he was nervous. It had been a long while since he saw rage like this. It made him very nervous at what this man would do. Plus with this man having the voice to command didn't make him feel any safer.

"How much is his bounty?" Jorik asked with a cold, deadly look.

"His bounty is ten thousand septims," the Jarl answered, he figured that was high enough price that the man wouldn't have it on him.

"Here," Jorik growled tossing him two sack of semptims. He scowled as the Steward began counting out the money.

"Why is this prisoner important to you?" the Jarl asked, now that he was feeling a bit safer. This man was going to be civilized.

"I owe him a great deal," Jorik answered. The Jarl raised a brow, considering how much this man had already spent it must be something big.

Jorik was tempted to storm his way to the dungeon. He just hoped nothing happened to the man. "Have Argis escorted up here," Igmund ordered. He hoped his torturer hadn't started yet, if he did he wasn't sure what this man would do and that made him fearful.

~ooooooooooooo~

The time ticked by slowly for Jorik as he waited for Argis to appear. He wasn't sure what else to do to protect the man, or how far he was willing to go. He could become Thane of this territory, and then request Argis to be his housecarl, but that meant he would have to bow to this Jarl. He couldn't, wouldn't do it.

He paced back and forth, trying to come up with another way to keep him safe. An idea popped in his mind, it was a good one, but stupid. It would mean tying Argis to him for the rest of their lives. He gave a un-amused chuckle at that, the probability was high that he wouldn't survive his fight against Alduin as it was. So that meant Argis wouldn't be tied down for too long. It was an option, marriage in name only. It would give him his protection and keep him safe from this Jarl and others.

He would suggest it to Argis and see what he thinks.

Jorik eyes narrowed when the Jarl paled, a rough shuffling sounded behind him. He turned slowly to see Argis slumped against two guards, his face was bruised badly. His ragged clothing were bloody and he was barely conscious. "Get a healer!" Jorik ordered.

He watched the two guards rush out quickly. He turned to the Jarl, "I'll deal with you later," he hissed.

Jorik grasped Argis to him, lifting with a grunt. He walked towards the doors, ready to meet the healers. He flinched when he heard Argis moan against his shoulder, but he ignored it. The nord wasn't safe yet, not until they were in the temple.

"Heal him the best you can right now then meet us at the inn," Jorik ordered as a healer ran up to them. Jorik shivered when he felt the healers magic flow over them.

"Get him to a bed and I'll finish what I started," the healer murmured. Jorik nodded, he had thought about bring him to the temple, but the best place for this was the inn. At least when Argis woke he wouldn't be in a unknown place.

~oooooooooooooo~

Jorik woke to even breathing from his place on the floor. He had stayed by Argis side all the days and nights to protect him. The man had taken a beating of the likes he had never seen. He was surprised the nord survived. There had been internal injuries, broken bones and so many other things.

"Your finally awake," Jorik smirked.

"Jorik what are you doing here?" Argis asked nervously.

"Saving your ass," Jorik answered tiredly. "I received a message that you had been arrested. So I came to bail you out."

"The Jarl will be expecting me back guarding the city now," Argis muttered.

"Yes I know. A few guards have already told me that as soon as you were better you were to report in," Jorik growled, slamming his fist into the stone floor. "And as soon as I leave the gods only knows what will happen."

"I know." Argis stated, his voice dull.

"Can't you quit your post?" Jorik asked.

"No, I have five more years," Argis told him.

Jorik closed his eyes and sighed.

"Jorik you can't help me. Just let whatever happens, happen," Argis muttered and sat up on his bed.

"No."

Argis looked at him wided eyed. He hadn't expected that answer. "Then what is your plan?" Argis asked snidely.

"Well I can become Thane, and request you as my housecarl is one. But I prefer not Thane for this Jarl. There is another option, it far fetched but it's the only one I can come up with," Jorik murmured sadly.

"What's that?" Argis asked nervously. He didn't like the sound of Jorik's voice.

"Marriage in name only. The Jarl wouldn't dare touch you then," Jorik said quietly.

"Are you insane?" Argis almost yelled.

"I've asked myself the same question many time," Jorik sighed, placing his head in his hands.

"You said marriage in name only? So the both of us are supposed to be celibate until one of dies?" Argis stated incredulously.

"No, I would never expect that. You can have whatever lovers you want, but no bringing them back to the house," Jorik said not meeting the man's eyes.

"This idea is insane!"

"I don't see you coming up with anything better," Jorik snapped coldly.

Argis sighed, was Jorik's idea the only option? He didn't know. Could he marry someone just to save himself? No he couldn't. He wouldn't.

"No."

"What do you mean no? Then how in the hell are you going to stay alive?"

"I don't know," Argis muttered and laid back down.

"Stubborn. Is this so much worse than losing your life?" Jorik asked mockingly.

"Jorik you're asking me into a marriage without any emotions," Argis argued.

"Aye I am. I owe you a great deal. If keeping you safe is the only way I can pay it back then I will do whatever is needed," Jorik said heatedly.

Argis fell silent, there was nothing he could say to that. Jorik was doing this because of his honor. "When?" Argis asked, the words dragging out of him.

"Whenever you want. We'll be living in Whiterun that way you'll be far from the Jarl," Jorik told him.

"No I have to stay here. I still have five years from that contract," Argis reminded him.

"I'll be in Whiterun most of the time. I'll come back here once a month or more. You're free to do what you wish otherwise," Jorik told him as he rose to his feet.

Argis nodded mutely. He didn't see how this would work, it couldn't. The both of them would be miserable and he didn't know why he was allowing this to happen. He should have stuck with his no, but he couldn't.

With a sigh he put on the clothing Jorik had laid out for him and followed the man outside.


	14. Chapter 14

Jorik sighed as he stepped out of Jorrvaskr. He glanced at Vilkas, "Are you sure you want to come?" Jorik asked. "I can easily do this mission on my own."

"No, you need a shield brother with this one. You'll be going up against a dragon," Vilkas reminded him.

"I've fought lots of dragons on my own," Jorik muttered with a scowl.

"I'm still coming with you," Vilkas stated with an annoyed shake of his head.

Jorik sighed and led the way out of the courtyard. They had to go to shearpoint to take down a dragon that hads been attacking one of the smaller villageMorthal. He wasn't sure how to do this. He had planned to go to Markarth right after this mission, but now he couldn't do that, not with Vilkas with him.

"What's bothering you?" Vilkas asked with an intent look.

"Nothing!" Jorik snapped, glaring at Vilkas.

"Jorik, you've been moody since you came back from Markarth," Vilkas stated.

"Vilkas, leave it!" Jorik grumbled.

"Fine, but if I die because you are too distracted…." Vilkas growled.

"If you die, your threat wouldn't matter. I would already be dead," Jorik smirked and picked up the pace so there would be no more talking.

~oooooooooooooooooooo~

Jorik groaned, rubbing his aching ribs as he stared at the dead dragon. He dropped to his knees when the soul filled him, calling to him.

Vilkas backed away when Jorik's eyes turned black, almost feral. He could honestly admit it unnerved him to see his friend like this.

Jorik fought for control, he could feel the other souls fighting for control. He groaned and doubled over, those souls whispered so sweetly to him. They pressed against his resolve, he was so tempted to give in to those sweet calls.

"Jorik…?" He heard Vilkas voice in the distance.

"What?" He growled, his voice deeper, louder like he was about to shout.

Vilkas hesitated and moved over to Jorik, hesitantly he place his hand on the man's shoulder. He was prepared for an attack, he didn't know what Jorik's mind set was at the moment.

Vilkas watched Jorik's eyes turn back to green, it was like watching green water slowly fill them, washing out the black. "Are you alright?" Vilkas asked.

"Yeah, fine," Jorik groaned. "You should head back to JoorvaskrJorrvaskr, I am heading to Markarth, there areis a few things that I need to check in on."

"I don't think you should be travelling alone right now," Vilkas stated, watching him closely.

Jorik rose to his feet unsteadily. He moved around the clearing avoiding the skeleton remains of the dragon. He could still feel them pressing against his will, but he fought back with everything he had. It was tiring to always fight the voices off, the sweet music of the dragon language. Without another glance at Vilkas he head down the hill towards Markarth ignoring the beat of the word wall and everything else. .

~oooooooooooo~

Markarth was busy as usual, guards were walking the streets. Jorik didn't see Argis anywhere and that worried him. He wondered if maybe his title as dragonborn wasn't good enough to protect the nord. He stopped the first guard he saw, "Where do I find Argis?" he asked.

"He's at the castle," the guard stated, before walking away to continue his patrol.

Jorik nodded and headed towards the castle. He wasn't sure what he planned or why he was making it a point of seeing Argis. As far as he was concerned it didn't matter, he was keeping his promise.

He found Argis standing in the shadows near the throne. Jorik walked over to him ignoring the Jarl. The Jarl was the last person he wanted to talk to, and he planned on keeping that promise.

"How are things going here?" Jorik asked Argis when they stood side by side.

"The Jarl hasn't requested my presence for any missions. So I have been stuck in this castle with nothing to do," Argis grumbled with a scowl.

"I have a few missions to do, find out if the Jarl will allow you to follow me," Jorik offered with a shrug. His eyes widened when Argis left him standing there and hurried towards the Jarl. He had to chuckle softly that Argis would react this way with his offer.

He waited for Argis to return and couldn't help, but notice the large smile on Argis' face. "I take it he said yes?" Jorik murmured.

"Actually he wishes to speak with you, but yes, he said it would be a good idea that I join you," Argis answered. Jorik looked curiously at the Jarl, not sure if he trust the Jarl.

Argis stayed close to Jorik. He had already heard the rumors, they intended to make Jorik a Thane. He wondered how Jorik would feel about that. "You wish to speak with me?" Jorik asked in a cold voice.

"Yes, I have heard you helped many people of my hold out. I wish to bestow the title of Thane onto you. You retrieved my shield where many couldn't, you've cleared out many of the forsworn," The Jarl stated as he rose to his feet.

"If I am to take this honor, what happens to Argis?" Jorik asked coldly.

"Even though he is your husband, he will be come your housecarl," Jarl Igmund said firmly, relief flowing through him now that he didn't have to worry about Argis anymore.

"Fine, I accept," Jorik said firmly. He turned to the steward and tossed him coins. "That should pay for Vlindrel Hall and its furnishings."

Argis watched on in surprise. He hadn't expected Jorik to buy a house and handing over so much money without batting an eyelash.

Jorik turned to Argis, "come on, let's check out this house," Jorik said and motioned Argis to take lead.

Jorik was surprised when he walked into the house, it was huge. Not what he expected. He glanced at the alchemy and enchantingry tables, then moved back into the main hall., Ppast the main hall was the kitchen along with the two bedroom. He noticed Argis moving his clothing into one of the bedrooms, but decided to leave it be.

"We'll go down to the tavern for something to eat. Tomorrow we'll head out to do a few missions," Jorik stated as he walked out of the house. He glanced at Argis to see what he thought.

"I'll have my pack ready," Argis said. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to act. Was he to act like a housecarl, or a husband, or what? He didn't know.

"When we are finished with the missions we will head to Whiterun," Jorik said as they took a seat at a table. He wasn't sure how that would work. He should have Argis stay in Markarth, but that wasn't fair to the man.

They sat there eating, their conversation awkward, not sure what to say to the other. Both men shifted uncomfortably a few times as silence descended. Jorik headed back to the house and straight to bed, hoping this would calm down between the two of them and not be so awkward.

~oooooooooooooo~

"You ready to leave?" Jorik asked.

"Yeah," Argis answered with his shoulders slumped. This was exactly what he expected when they married. He wasn't sure how this would work, they were so distant, like two strangers. In a way that was the truth. The only thing they had was Jorik's honor. If Jorik hadn't injured him long ago, he wondered what would have happened to him.

~ooooooooooooooooo~

Jorik and Argis trudged their way into Whiterun. They made their way slowly to Breezehome, Jorik grinned when he saw Lydia there with food already cooking. He was glad he had wrote the note and sent it out by currier.

"The master bedroom is upstairs," Jorik told him.

Lydia waited until the other man was out of sight. "So it is true…" Lydia murmured looking at her expectantly.

"Yes it's true. Does…" Jorik trailed off, not sure how to ask without Argis overhearing.

"No, he doesn't. I'm the only one in Whiterun that knows," Lydia told her quietly. "So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know, but I need to speak with Balgruuf. I should have talked to him before this, but…"

Argis sat on the bed, hearing every word that had been spoken. He knew Balgruuf was the Jarl here, but he wondered what Jorik's relationship to him was. Argis decided to ask Jorik when they had some time alone. He glanced around the room unsure where he was going to sleep. There was one large bed, and a table. He knew Jorik would be taking the bed, so that meant he would be taking the floor.

Jorik glanced up at the ceiling when he heard Argis move around. "Lydia, can you finish making supper. I need to talk with Argis," Jorik said and went to the stairs.

Jorik found Argis making up his bedroll on the floor. "Forget it, I think we can share a bed," Jorik muttered.

"No, its fine," Argis murmured, not meeting the other man's eyes.

"You're as sore as I am. We're both sleeping on the bed. It's big enough for the both of us," Jorik stated and grabbed up Argis' bedroll. Argis watched as he walked out of the bedroom with his bedroll. He decided he would get it when Jorik fell asleep, that was until he heard Jorik's order.

"Lydia, I am placing Argis' bedroll in your room, he is not to collect it until morning!" Jorik's voice thunder through the house.

"Understood my Thane. Though you should have it down here for the time being," Lydia said with a smirk.

Jorik scowled, but could see that Lydia was right. He grabbed the bedroll once more and brought them downstairs. He placed them in the Alchemy workshop and locked the door. He heard Argis coming down the stairs and grinned.

If they were married, they could share a bed. It didn't mean they had to do anything, but he will not have his husband sleeping on the floor when there was enough space on the bed.

Lydia shook her head and looked worriedly at her Thane. She wasn't sure what he was going to do now or how Balgruuf would take this new development.

"I'll be back shortly, I am going to talk with the Jarl," Jorik stated and walked out of the house. He wasn't sure what he was going to say. He wasn't even sure why he was so worried about Balgruuf reaction.

It didn't take long to get to the castle, especially with his mind wondering so much. He stepped into the castle and silence fell. A chill crept up his back as he met Balgruuf cold stare.

"I'll speak with you up stairs," Balgruuf stated and stormed up the stairs. Jorik hurriedly followed him, not liking the looks of this.

"Something wrong?" Jorik asked hesitantly as they walked into Balgruuf's room.

"I hear you've married," Balgruuf stated with a hard edge to his voice.

Jorik's mouth dropped, he didn't know how Balgruuf had heard so soon. "Yes it's true. But it's not what you think…" Jorik began, and then stopped to running a hand through his hair in frustration.

Balgruuf took a seat, not sure what to think now. "What do you mean?"

"A short while after you took my eye, I was out fighting with another and took his eye. I owe him and to save him I married him or he would be dead by now," Jorik explained. "It's a marriage in name only."

Balgruuf looked at him in shock, not sure what to say. He hadn't expected this. "Where is your husband now?"

"Here, at my house," Jorik answered uncertainly.

Balgruuf nodded silently and then met Jorik's eyes. "Come back tomorrow, we need to talk," Balgruuf ordered and motioned for Jorik to leave.

Once again he was in a haze as he walked home. He didn't bother greeting anyone in the house. He went straight to his room, not even noticing Argis asleep in his bed. He laid down and started when he felt someone next to him. He glanced over at a sleeping Argis and felt strange sleeping in the same bed with him. With a shake of his head he went back downstairs and stared into the fire.


End file.
